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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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SIT, PAW, BEND OVER. | K.BOKUTO.

OCT 15TH. KOUTAROU BOKUTO + DUMBIFICATION.

KINKTOBER M.LIST. / M.LIST. / TAGLIST. / KOFI.

ৎ୭ synopsis. when the volleyball off-season rolls around and things get a little lonely for bokuto, he adopts a precious husky hybrid to keep him company— however, you’re not as well behaved as he would like.

ৎ୭ wc. 4500.

ৎ୭ genre. mdni, 18+, smut, post-time skip!au.

ৎ୭ cw. please read ! heavy smut, characters aged up to twenties, fem + husky hybrid!reader, owner!bokuto, size!kink, heavy!pet play, mentions of knotting, collars-leashes, spanking, degredation, brat-taming, cumplay, ruined orgasm, unprotected sex. not proof read, beware of errors.

ৎ୭ author’s note. ree it’s friday again, hope you’ve all been safe this week ! here’s my third installment of kinktober and my first ever haikyuu fic :oo i hope i was able to do bokuto justice!! enjoy, feedback is always appreciated ! <3

ৎ୭ now playing. won’t bite - doja cat ft. smino.

koutarou bokuto had been lonely.

during the volleyball off-game season, he hadn’t much social interaction besides training with the team and the hook ups he’d had between his adoring fans and celebrities alike just weren’t doing it for him anymore.

most of his team spends this time with their family, flying back and forth across the globe to be with loved ones and worried mothers. sure, bokuto had his sisters— nagging him, making sure he’s keeping his health up along with the weekly zoom calls with his plethora of annoying teammates to make sure they’re not going insane but the MSBY player needed something more than friendly chats with people who already knew him.

in passing, over one of their group calls, hinata suggests a pet— but offers no solutions for when his taller, salt and pepper haired teammate has to travel for games again. atsumu proposes a more independent companion, one that can take care of themselves. like a hybrid.

and that very same day, koutarou ends up with you.

an over the top, bratty, conniving and dramatic husky hybrid— with pointed puppy dog ears and a bushy, black and white tail that wags a mile a minute, when you’re getting what you want. spoiled is what you are. that’s the only way he can put it...but being spoiled and treated like a princess is what you deserve— after all, he had adopted you from a hybrid pound that planned to ship you off to a breeding farm due to your bad behaviour and unwillingness to cooperate, in order to save you.

he wanted to give you a chance, provided you with a life of luxury, diamond collars... and whatever toys you wanted, you got them. no matter how much you snarled and caused chaos, no matter how irritated bokuto got with you— his patience outweighed any annoyance he had with your sour attitude and he still only wanted to give you the best life possible.

you were trouble but you deserved koutarou bokuto’s help.

however, there’s only so much patience a man can have with a badly behaved dog.

coming home to a torn up couch and stuffing thrown across bokuto’s lush penthouse was not ideal after a day of sponsorship meetings during his time off. with frames and expensive, rare volleyball merchandise shattered across his flooring, the wing spiker frowns— finding you baring your canine teeth, eyes narrowed as you growl at the hybrid sitter he’d left you with today. koutarou doesn’t ask why you’re acting so defensive, apologising to the poor kid who’d been looking after you while he was away for business and ushers them to the door with a wad of cash as a tip for their service before approaching you with two items that had your back up even more.

“must’ya always misbehave while i’m away?” bokuto tuts, amber glossed eyes darkening as if someone had blown out the candles of the sun. between his large fingers he toys with your collar and leash— the one you hate because it rubs when you’re taken out for walks.

gently approaching you and crouching by your side, he attempts to slide the pink patent leather around your neck but you show your teeth again, your gums peeking out to play as you upper lip curls into a snarl. “get that shit away from me,” your voice is low and menacing but it barely makes bokuto flinch, his usually soft face falling flat with disappointment. “fuck off.”

“yanno this foul attitude of yours is really startin’ to get on my nerves,” the spiker grunts, feeling the heat of your fury and breath fan over his face before yanking you by the shoulder until your head is bowed and easily slipping the collar round your neck— you whimper in shock, but koutarou doesn’t care, promptly clipping the leash onto the silver buckle pressing into your skin.”s’just not cutting it for me, pup.”

“don’t care.” you seethe despite the nervousness bokuto detects through your lashes when you look up at him with sparkly puppy eyes

usually he would have given up by now, let you go and forget about how badly behaved you were but this time, the famous volleyball player steels himself— yanking you by your leash as he heads towards the master bedroom, until you collapse on all fours, dragged along the floorboards with only your sweater to stop you from getting carpet burn. bokuto keeps walking, tugging against the resistance of his precious husky hybrid’s body until you start to crawl towards him, just like he wanted you to.

“well you fuckin’ should.” your owner warns you, sunshine smile returning to his face. if you squinted you could see the raging fury burning bright between the golden flecks of his eyes. bokuto shrugs when a low whine bounces in your throat, tugging you further into the bedroom without a care for you.

if you were going to misbehave, he’d have to teach you a lesson or two about discipline.

before you know it, your leash is looped around one of the bed posts tightly—so tight that if you dare to pull back, your collar would threaten to cut off your air supply and make your brain dizzier, emptier than it already was. you squirm, wiggle and try to get away from the clutches belonging to koutarou as he looms over you from behind, tearing through the fabrics of your luxury brand clothes he had been so kind to treat you with. although the temperature in the air conditioned bedroom is cold, your body burns brightly with increasing desire— only heightened by the way your owner begins to man handle you, pulling apart your thighs by the meat of them and pressing a heavy palm down on the curve of your back so your ass arches upwards for him.

“k-kou,” comes your quiet and hesitant voice, your fluffy tail slowing down its wag. “koutarou...w-what are you doin’?”

bokuto pushes your sweater up until it rests on your middle, having thrown away your boyshorts and panties in his haze earlier— now, he comes fixated on toying with your ass cheeks, spreading them and kneading them while he figures out the best way to torture you. “if you’re going to act like a dirty, ill-behaved mutt, then ‘m gonna have to treat you like one, right?” he hums, leaning up to press a kiss to the base of your spine, yellow-stone eyes watching as your ears twitch and shiver pulses down your body.

your hips jut backwards and blood begins rushing through your ears in anticipation of what koutarou might do to you. is this what he acted like when he lost his cool? when you tested his patience? “i-i’m sorry,” you begin to whine in doggie whistle tones, trying to tug free on your leash and avoid whatever punishment you have impending.

but bokuto isn’t having any of it, landing a hard spank on your ass which makes you yelp in surprise.

“no, i don't think you are. i bet’cha don’t even know why you’re in trouble right now, dumb dog.” his words are cool, they have bite to them as he covers your body with his—massaging the sore spot on your bottom from where he delivered your first spank. his statement is only solidified when you shake your head ‘no’, growing teary and shameful. “of course you don’t, you really are clueless, aren’t you pup?” you nod this time, weakly, as bokuto pulls your body back into his by tucking two fingers under the pink leather of your collar, snarling into your ear as he smacks you again. “s’fuckin’ stupid… but i guess since you’re being obedient right now, i’ll tell you how this is gonna work, okay?”

a small mewl leaves your lips in agreement, even as the spiker pinchess your bruising flesh, pain blossoming underneath it. “y’gonna get spanked, pup. s’what happens to bad little bitches like you who disappoint their owners,” bokuto explains, the way he treats you— as if you really are a stupid animal and not a hybrid— makes you tremble needily. “gonna spank you f’every item of mine that you broke back there, till you’re stupid ‘n dumb enough to take my cock, got it?”

bokuto finishes outlining your punishment with a firm clap of his calloused palm against your ass cheek again, entire body jolting from the force. “uhuh,” you say breathlessly.

“aren’t huskies supposed to be intelligent? i asked you to count, or do you need an explanation on how to do that too, sweetheart?’ koutarou growls, impatience bubbling over once again. “look, i don’t really wanna punish you pretty girl, but how else are ya s’pposed to learn? so jus’ count f’me, okay?”

“o-okay, kou,” you stutter, taking a deep breath and screwing your eyes shut as you prepare for impact. “o-one!”

true to his word, bokuto spanks you for every item in his penthouse you’d destroyed, every broken vase with a million yen price tag, every scratched chair and torn up pillow— you pay for every single thing with a weighty smack to your ass and a sweet cry torn from your throat as you claw at the sheets and tug back on your leash until its hard for you to breathe. between each one, the professional volleyball player rubs at the broken skin, coos soft words of how he ‘didn’t want to do this,’ and that ‘it hurts me more than it hurts you, pup,’ along with ‘this was the only way for bad dogs like you to learn,’ though you were starting to think he was punishing you for more than just the valuables that you’d broken.

maybe even for fun.

you’re a crumpled mess by the time he’s done with you, shaky at the knees with your ears pressed flat against your skull. you’ve lost count of how many hits your poor ass has taken, the skin surely broken and tender by now— but koutarou doesn’t seem to care, already taking a peek between your slicked up thighs and pushing away your wet, fluffy tail to take a wiff of your clearly aroused sex.

“fuck, what a dirty lil mutt you are,” koutarou moans from deep in his chest, large and rough hands pulling apart your ass cheeks to take a look at the strong strings of your wetness that somehow stay together. hybrids get wetter than the average human, something about the mix of animal DNA and instinct with that of a person’s meant that your bodies instantly prepared for pregnancy and conceiving whenever sex begun to hang heavy in the air. “so fuckin’ wet and for what? a couple of spanks gets this naughty puppy that turned on?”

your leaking hole doesn’t stop the spiker from spitting into it, watching the trail of bubbly white mingle with your juices and slide down your puffy folds. he doesn’t bother to catch the cream that oozes from the sex, using it as another excuse to let his hand come down hard against your bare ass— leaving you howling into the imported sheets, saliva pooling on your tongue as your gaze clouds over.

though flat and pressed against your sweaty forehead, you pointy puppy dog ears pick up on the clink of bokuto’s belt before he tears through his buttons and the anticipation kills you from the inside out. a yearning to be fucked floods you like poison in your veins, curling around red blood cells and only serving to lure you into the trap that is your owner. your hips throw back into the cool air of the bedroom, though your body is on fire, desperate to be mated as your animalistic instincts and tendencies take over your brain— like boukuto’s a blissful inferno consuming all the cells in your mind.

tail swishing and cunt dripping, you push your ass further into the air, pulling a mean chuckle from koutarou’s lips as he fists his cock to the sight of you throwing it back for him. “look at this. you’re such a fuckin’ slutpup. so nasty, so wet all f’this fuckin’ cock, yeah? yeah?” bokuto sneers just like you’d done earlier, running a thumb over his seedy tip and swiping up the precum that leaks there— he pushes his soiled thumb into your swelling clit, pushing the nub around in circles to prep you before the fat shaft of his dick glides through your sopping pussy lips. “why does gettin’ in trouble make you act like such a needy little bitch in heat?”

“‘m sorry! k-kou, ‘m sorry!” you cry out through teary eyes and dried lips, puckered hole clenching around nothing, leaking even more cloudy strings of arousal than before. you’re not even sure what you’re apologising for, the only thing on your mind being filled with bokuto’s cock as he grinds himself into your sex— dribbling his pre all over you as if to scent your mound.

“greedy bitch.” the salt and pepper haired man laughs huskily, the sound shooting straight to your heat. “gonna fuck this puppycunt now, teach it a lesson since y’just love to act up,” he adds, not even giving you a moment to brace yourself before his length shoves its way into your ill-prepared and unused hole, large and practiced hands pulling your hips up until you’re full to the brim and your eyes are rocketing to the back of your skull. “so fucking tight baby, so f-fucking tight.”

your pussy flutters at just the feeling of being so full, ecstasy tingling at every pulse point along your sticky walls and you shove your hand beneath your body just try and make it stop because bokuto’s barely moved and you’re already so overwhelmed. a low whine trembles in your chest while the pair of you are still, getting used to being connected like this— sweat mingling between your bodies. you feel so full, stretched around his big cock with barely any space for him to move— it almost gives you the illusion of being knotted, your puppy pussy accommodating to his size with a delightful pain teasing your squishy insides.

your head empties of every good thought you’ve ever had, flooded with images and senses and touches all relating back to koutarou as he pulls his hips back— tugging his cock out of your snug and selfish walls with shaky breath and a dainty groan lying on his tongue. “listen to that,” he coos raspily, pads of his fingers sinking into your hips sure to leave loving bruises underneath your skin in their wake. your sex squelches as he withdraws from you, and your ears fall back in embarrasment once again— knowing it’s because of how messy and wet your cunt is. “you sound so dirty baby, all this over being punished...bet you’re not even feeling guilty anymore…s’more like a little reward for you, getting to be dumbed down like the dog you are and full of my dick.”

bokuto leans over you, washboard abs and beefy chest pressing against your clothed back, forcing your body down into the mattress. his hand curls around your face, squishing your pudgy cheeks together. “y’such a lucky thing, baby.” he whispers to you, snapping his hips forward until his balls slap against your clit even as you cup your spasming sex— sending your eyes rolling and causing your mouth to let out the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard.

and you are, you’re so fucking lucky that he picked you up from the pound before someone else could— because if he hadn’t you’d never have been given the chance to feel dick like this, to have it press up against your womb and bully your insides until they give into him. bokuto builds up a steady rhythm, grabbing your leash from the bedpost and wrapping it tight around his wrist, tighter than how your walls wrap around him and choke the dear life out of his red pulsing cock. there’s so much power between each canter of his hips into yours that your body flies up the bed, you’re clawing at anything to keep you down— pillows and sheets to stay in place.

“k-kou, kou! f-feels s’good—ah!” you chant along to the rhythmitc sound of skin slapping on skin, the creaking bed and the frame hitting hard against the wall as bokuto fucks you— taking you on a ride along hell’s highway. you want so, so much more, to be pinned down on bokuto’s dick for the rest of your life— your tail swishing eagerly at every push and pull of his fat cockhead into your sweet pots that make your eyes cross and your tongue loll out of your mouth like you’re a slobbering pup. you can’t help it either, when your fingers, tinier than his own, draw shapes into your clit. “oh please!” you slobber over his digits as they grip your face, whining like a puppy left without attention.

“look at you drooling like a fuckin’ mess baby, almost as messy as your puppy cunt down here. y’look so fuckin’ stupid, so cute like a little slut on my cock,” bokuto growls breathless, shoving his fingers in your wet mouth and pressing down on your tongue— not caring that your canine teeth nip his knuckles. you hump the bed, loving how pleasure never leaves you— when bokuto withdraws from you, the kiss is replaced by bumping your clit against the lads of your fingers. your rocking rhythm is quickly picked up by him quickly, reaching between your bodies to yank away your hand. “so selfish for such a dumb mutt, gettin’ yourself off even while i make you feel good. how selfish,”

you whimper in fear, thighs trembling but bokuto does wonders smacking the dull tip of his dick against your g-spot. “i-i’m...i’m sorry! i jus—!” you babble brainlessly with no idea of what you’re going to say next— too fucked out, to weak to stay up by yourself, train of thought cut off by your owner tugging hard on your darling puppy tail.

koutarou looms over you, practically crushing you with his weight and fucking your sweet pussy into the bed, the frame shaking from the weight he puts behind each thrust— forcing your sensitive bud to grind against the cotton sheets, stimulating you even further. the hold he has on your leash pulls you back into his chest as he ploughs his fat dick into your cunt, taking out his anger on you. “y’such a disobedient mutt,” he growls harshly, words ringing through your empty head. “i fuckin’ saved you, the least you could do is let me fuck you right. god, you’re so selfish, this puppy cunt clamping down on me to keep me in too— i really gotta teach you a lesson, horny little bitch.”

he reaches down, grabbing your tail once again and stroking the soft fur until your ass quivers and your pussy locks around his cock. your brain is fuzzy, like cotton has been stuffed into your ears and the only thing you can actually hear is bokuto’s heavy pants as he grinds his dick against your gummy, soaked walls— bathing him in your nectar. every time he tugs on your tail you get wetter and wetter, making it easier for the spiker to glide through your clamping cunt.

“oh? you like that? filthy, practically dripping every time i touch you here. nasty little puppy.”

you keen into every touch, letting bokuto pull your ears back until you arch beneath him— rubbing at the floppy appendages until every neuron in your brain shuts down from how sensitive they are, pulling more wet cries from your shaking body. you can’t think, you can’t breathe beneath the spiker’s muscle and his weight, heavy hips rocking into your ass and clapping creamily between you. your brain feels fuzzy, eyes grow hazy— body sleepily collapsing against the linen brushing up against your pebbled nipples and letting koutarou have his way with you.

he hits so good, so deep— sending your world into spinning and blurry chaos until the only thing you can see clearly is him. “k-kou—hnngh! s-so big! s-so—!” you squeal as he palms your ears, tugs your tail and jams his dick up against the squishy spot that makes you see stars.

“s-so, s-so...so what? speak, mutt.” koutarou grunts out, freeing your bruised hip momentarily to run his fingers through sweaty salt and pepper locks, raw bottom lip caught between his teeth as he pulls back to watch his cock slide in and out of your precious, viscous honeyed puppy cunt. “fuckin’ hell... y’so fuckin’ stupid for this cock aren’t you? you don’t even know how to speak right. yanno, you really are such a dumb, fucking dog.” the volleyball player adds, his last three harsh words punctuated by powerful lunges of his hips into your squelching sex— bruising up your cervix, tainting the entrance of your womb with never ending spirts of his clear precum.

whistle tone whines of yours fall into the chorus of your joined bodies, the slip and slide of your sexes slotted against one another in perfect harmony— the pleasure is out of this world and you barely have enough brain function to register it, crying too much, leaking all over the place from your poor puppy pussy and from your open mouth. bokuto pulls tight on your leash until your head tips back, ears brushing against your spine as he bends you enough to spit into your mouth, groaning when you catch his gift on your tongue and run the pink muscle over your canine teeth in satisfaction.

“i-i’m—‘m not dumb!” you heave hoarsely between bokuto’s ravaging thrusts, breasts bouncing, tail thumping against his pelvis as he fucks you. “am not!”

golden eyes hone in on you, blazing with lust and amusement before your head is forced into the pillows— held down by koutarou’s hand that holds your leash tight enough to the point where you lose air. he used this position as leverage to plough into your oozing hole with slow strokes, making you howl into the cotton. “you’re not, huh? not a stupid little fuckmutt?” he laughs coldly and incredulously, despite the heat of his body even as his teeth latch onto your shoulder, writing degrading words against your skin in the form of blossoming love bites. “ain’t that why y’tearin’ up on my cock, misbehavin’ f’my attention?”

“n-no!” you sob at the mixture of pain and delight, shaking your head even though your body says yes— especially with the way your pussy clamps down, making koutarou’s hips stutter at the sudden lock down on his veiny cock. you’re practically seated on the edge of euphoria now, humping back on him like a bitch in heat, waiting to be filled with cum and to tumble over the peak of your high, crashing into the waves of desire below.

“fuckin’ attention whore,” the spiker nutters under his breath, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he reaches between your joined bodies, underneath your wagging tail— never slowing down— to deliver a spank to your raw and abused cunt, living for the way your entire body spasms beneath him and your back brushes up against his hard nipples. “i’ve spoiled you too much, pupslut, gotta learn your lesson now,”

you don’t quite know what he means, the sound of bokuto’s ragged breathing as he fucks into you at a faster pace distracting your empty, air filled mind. you’re powerless to how he uses you, overwhelmed by his size as he drags you by the collar and leash to your orgasm. “‘m gonna cum kou! g’na cum so hard, p-please! please!” you beg for whatever comes to mind, but what can come to mind when your tiny pussy is stretched over a strong girth of koutarou’s size? “p-pups!” you say, babbling brainlessly, clawing at the pillows as the knot in your tummy comes close to snapping. “c-cum inside me kou, make me cum— gimme your pups please! n-need it! need you!”

you’re almost there, already tasting the sweet fruits of eve’s garden while your tail wags faster and faster at the thought of cumming— when it’s suddenly all pulled away from you.

“i don’t fuckin’ think so.”

koutarou rips his cock from the warmth of your cluttering cunt, a weak cry falling from your lips when he takes you by your pink leather leash and yanks your shaky body to the floor in front of his bed. your owner forces you onto your knees, your pointed husky ears flat against your head as he looms above you.

“t-this— fuckin’ hell— this is what happens when you act like a bad dog,” he stutters breathily and you can’t help the eager simper bubbling in the base of your throat despite your orgasm being torn away from you, since you get a front row seat to koutarou bokuto fisting his weighty girth above your face. milky threads of precum drip onto your tear stained and puffy cheeks, his balls against your chin as he ruts into you— forcing you to suck on meat of them while he jerks off above you. “you don’t get to cum, only i get to fucking cum. got that?”

you don’t have time to respond or nod, for fat globs of white pour from koutarou’s angry red tip, dribbling down the length of his shaft and pooling over your eyes and pretty face— making a mess of you like you did of his apartment. the throaty groan your owner lets out is enough to send you spiralling as he blows his load over your skin, still jerking his cock, filling the air with lewd fapping noises. there’s enough of his seed to hit the floor with a crude slap— some of it even splashing back onto your body or landing between your puppy dog ears.

still twitching with the after shocks of his high, koutarou looks down at you— pulling your head up to meet his amber gaze by your leash. “now, y’gonna lick all this fucking cum from the floor, clean it up like the dirty, bad dog you are…” he leans down close so that you can feel the heat of his breath on your cum stained cheeks. “then, you’re gonna roll over...nah, you’re gonna bend over, ‘n let me fuck that puppy cunt of yours again. but this time, you’ll behave.”

and you do.

you do as he says, cleaning up bokuto’s cock and the floor before he plunges himself back inside of your welcoming walls— fucking you hard until all you see is stars and you’re begging him to stop unleashing load after load of cum into your drooling slit. your ravaged and sore pussy leaks you with every thrust, eyes crossed and tail no longer wagging.

by the end of the night, you’re a drooling mess and koutarou bokuto’s good, obedient little husky hybrid... who’s managed to learn some wonderful new tricks.

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jewishtommycoolatta · 3 years

Text

a proposal

Word Count: 1270

Ship: Freelatta (Tommy x Gordon)

No major TWs.

—–

Tommy wants to propose. It goes as well as you'd expect.

—–

Maybe the dog park wasn’t the best place to do this.

No, now wasn’t the time for doubt. Tommy had been planning this for weeks, he couldn’t just back out now.

He’d basically bled the local library dry of every book about marriage and marriage proposals that he could find. Unfortunately none were really like a full-fledged manual on how to do it, but hours of scouring the internet for proposal how-tos left him with what he hoped was enough to cover most of his bases. (He had also approached Dr. Coomer for help, but. Well. Stealing a motorcycle on the way out of the courthouse after finalizing your divorce with your ex-wife didn’t really seem like it would woo Gordon.)

Step one: buy a ring. Obviously the most important part.

Gordon didn’t like to wear his prosthetic hand too much, so it was easy for Tommy to sneak a finger measurement from it while he wasn’t looking. His father gave him helpful advice on ring sizing and color matching, a strange amusement etched into his face as Tommy rambled about all the research he’d been doing into this.

His father gently pointed out that maybe he was being a little bit overly-anxious about this as Tommy stared daggers into the ring case at the store. Of course he was wrong, he was just trying his best to pick the absolute perfect one.

It had to be perfect. It was for Gordon.

Eventually he settled on a small silver ring, dotted with white diamonds around the band and a triangular yellow diamond as the centerpiece. Yellow was a happy color, psychologically. Gordon said it made him happy.

No particular reason why. Just psychology.

Step two: plan the event.

That's how he ended up at the dog park-- it was the best place he could come up with. Sure there were lots of other, more stereotypically acceptable places he could have chosen, like a candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant, or the beach, or on a nice vacation, but…

Gordon and Tommy both hated fancy food, and Gordon was terrified of the water now, and Tommy was not particularly a fan of travel or airplanes.

He didn’t think Gordon would like a proposal at Chuck E Cheese’s, so…. dog park it was.

The dog park was nice. Open and bright, with visible exits and. Well. Lots of cute dogs.

A lot of comfort. A place they knew.

Gordon would like it, right?

At the very least he had the rest of the science team (plus his father and Darnold) here. It was a last minute decision, really, but the proposal lined up with their weekly planned meet-ups.

“We’ll be there to support you!” Dr. Coomer had said with a wink.

“I wanna see it go wrong,” Bubby had said.

Dr. Coomer and Bubby then fought violently. It was a typical day.

Anyways, here they all were, surrounding a picnic bench. Tommy and Gordon were sitting with their backs to the table, watching Joshua run around with Sunkist, while everyone else (except Benrey, who had laid on his stomach in the grass to watch an anthill) was crammed onto the other bench, watching the two lovebirds expectantly.

Step three: actually do it.

That was the hard part.

He glanced back at everyone else. They all had bright smiles on their faces. Bubby was-- uh, snickering. Disheartening. Darnold waved his hands at him. Go on!

Ok. Ok! He could do this. He had read all the books and bought the perfect ring and had the support of his friends and father.

“Um… G- uh, Gordon?” He grasped the other man’s hand.

“Yeah?” He turned his head halfway towards Tommy, still keeping a close eye on Josh.

Sparing one last nervous glance at the others at the table, he slid off the bench and onto one knee in front of the other man, pulling that special black suede box out of his pocket.

One hand grasping Gordon's and the other presenting that delicate yellow ring he had spent so long deciding on, he asked Gordon to marry him.

The man gawked at Tommy, full attention now on him and that little, yet so important ring.

His shoulders shook a little, his face contorting in a strange way-- and Tommy thought maybe he was so overcome he would cry, but he bent his head and weird cackle came out--

And he was laughing.

He was howling, actually, head suddenly thrown back and his body shaking with so much force it felt like it was rattling Tommy’s arm out of his own shoulder socket.

Behind him, the science team shared their own reactions to this, with Dr. Coomer letting out a loud “Oh my!” and Bubby laughing on his own. Darnold was shaking his own head with a soft giggle. Even his own father was battling an amused smile. Benrey was still face-first in the dirt.

What was this? Some kind of cruel joke?

Tommy looked quickly between Gordon, still laughing, and the rest of the science team, his eyes growing in a new fear that he’d somehow been made into a joke he didn’t get.

“Why are-- why are you laughing?”

“I’m not-- I’m not laughing at you, I promise, I--” Gordon wheezed out, trying to control himself. He dropped Tommy’s hand and reached into his own pocket, pulling out…

A little black suede box. An ornate silver band, studded with small white diamonds, with a sparkling triangular green emerald in the center.

His own engagement ring.

“You-- you were--?!”

“I was-- I was! I was gonna--”

Neither of them could finish their sentences, the ridiculousness and utter excitement of the situation overwhelming them. The others were all laughing now too, obviously having known about both planned proposals and setting up this event.

How funny, he had been so, so worried about this-- but Gordon must have worried just as much.

Tommy started laughing too.

He laughed, and laughed, and burst into tears.

“What-- hey! Tommy, Tommy, hey--” Both rings had been dropped and forgotten on the ground now, Gordon reaching to caress his new fiance’s face.

“whuh the hell. why’d you make tommy cry. mean,” Benrey said, voice muffled from speaking into the dirt.

“Gordon, you’re a monster!” Dr. Coomer added, cheerily as ever.

“Can you guys shut up?!” Gordon yelled behind him.

“I’m sorry m-- I’m-- I’m just really ha--happy,” Tommy sobbed out. And it was true; his eyes glowed so bright Gordon thought he might be blinded, just like that first time.

Despite his tears, Tommy pulled Gordon’s hand to his lips and gently kissed his knuckles, picking his chosen ring up from the grass and sliding it onto the other man’s finger.

His sobs subsided into sniffles by the time Gordon had reached down to take that stunning emerald ring, sparkling so beautifully in the midday sun, and slip it on Tommy’s own hand.

It fit perfectly, just like Gordon's hand in his.

"yooo what did i miss" Benrey said, having apparently finally stood up from the dirt during the commotion. His face was covered in ants.

"You are fucking COVERED in ants dude!" Gordon yelled.

"what? no i'm not"

"It's not polite to lie to a friend, Gordon!" Dr. Coomer said.

"YES YOU-- HE IS! LOOK AT HIS FACE! TOM-- TOMMY! LOOK AT HIM!" Gordon screamed, gesticulating wildly at Benrey who was very much, in fact, covered in ants.

Tommy tapped Gordon's hand he was holding and gave him a serious look. "Lying w-- Lying is a sin, Gordon."

Gordon screamed.

Yeah. This was the best place to do this.

#hlvrai #hlvrai fanfic #hlvrai gordon #hlvrai tommy #freelatta #ive had this in my drafts for like a fuckin year and finsihed it finally on an airplane back home. so enjoy #assume this is the same universe as yellow eyes

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sg-marshall · 4 years

Text

sims 4 trait legacy challenge

Overview:

This is a ten generation legacy challenge based on some characteristics people can possess. Each generation will be based upon a new trait. The style and gender of the generation is completely up to you (I usually play as women but gender does not matter in this challenge)! Complete all goals before focusing on the next generation. Some may play onto each other, so be sure to look ahead before moving forward! I created an adapted version for people who do not have the packs I used listed below the challenge. I wanted to make sure everyone could play and not feel left out!

Rules:

No cheats or mods!

Start off with $20,000 and a build a house wherever you want one.

Complete all six goals for every generation before moving onto the next one.

Complete the full aspiration and reach level 10 in the set career.

There is no rules when it comes to aging up but I suggest waiting until it is their set birthday.

Play on normal life span.

Packs Used: Base Game, Discovery University, Seasons, City Living, Get to Work, Cats and Dogs, Parenthood, Spa Day, and Knifty Knitting

Generation One: Responsibility

You are a very old fashioned person who believes things have a certain way of being done. Every object in your house has a set place, the person you marry you are supposed to stay with forever, and the world should be a clean place to live in. Never once have you strayed away from your beliefs and you’ve always lived your life by the book. Even once your partner dies and you are left with a child who cannot handle their passing, you stay true to your morals. (EDIT: I have been playing this challenge myself and found that the final level of the aspiration said “have a child master a career”. I do not know if you have to be in the household for that, but if you do, just add this generation to the household of the next one before they master it. It is also okay if you want to ignore/cheat this part.)

Traits: Neat, Good, Green Fiend

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Education (Administrator Branch)

Goals:

Max charisma skill.

Max research and debate skill.

Be married as a young adult, but have your partner die (do not tell your child how) once they reach adult hood. Never remarry.

Have only one child with your partner.

Complete the snowglobes collection and have them set up in a specific room in your house.

Make your neighborhood green and keep it that way.

Generation Two: Determined

You’ve always struggled to cope with the death of your father/mother ever. Maybe that's because you never really knew why they died in the first place. Left with too many questions to handle, you destroy your relationship with your friends and family and run away to find some answers. This entails a trip to Sixam, where you can finally wrap ahead around the passing of you mom/dad. You decide to come home just in time to see your mom/dad just before they too pass away. After a heart-breaking conversation, you realize that all the secrecy was for the best.

Traits: Gloomy, Ambitious, Loner

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Astronaut (Interstellar Smuggler Branch)

Goals:

Max rocket science skill.

Max mischief skill.

Build a rocket ship and fly to Sixam.

Run away and live on your own as a teenager.

Have a horrible relationship with your mom/dad as a young adult, but become best friends with them before they pass away.

Complete the microscope prints collection.

Generation Three: Loving

Your mother/father was extremely distant growing up, which caused you to rely on friends as your family. Your childhood best friend has been with you every step of the way, and you ended up fell in love with them. All you wanted to do was be a mother/father, but found out you could never have children. You adopt a child as a baby and raise them as your own, teaching them everything you wish your parents did for you.

Traits: Romantic, Family - Oriented, Foodie

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: Babysitter (Teenager), None (Young Adult and older)

Goals:

Max parenting skill.

Max wellness skill.

Marry your childhood best friend.

Adopt a baby after you get married.

Teach your toddler to max all skills.

Have a side passion of knitting.

Generation Four: Intelligence

You grew up incredibly smart with no knowledge of who your real parents were. However, that never mattered to you. Your adoptive parents have made it their life goal to advance your gifts in every way they know how. Late nights of helping you with homework, early mornings of finishing projects, and spending their fortunes to enroll you into the college of your dreams. All you wanted to do was repay them by becoming a world renowned journalist. You dedicate your best-sellers to them because, after all, they’ll always be your biggest fan.

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Unflirty

Aspiration: Academic

Career: Writer (Journalist Branch)

Goals:

Max logic skill.

Max writing skill.

Reach level eight in five other skills of your choice.

Go to the University of Britechester and study Language and Literature (distinguished).

Join the Debate Guild and reach the highest rank.

Write five novels.

Generation Five: Hard - Working

Fashion has been your passion since you were a little girl/boy. You even asked your parents to stop dressing you as a toddler because the clothes they picked were “not stylish enough.” As a self-proclaimed style icon, you knew you had to make your biggest dream come true: to create your own fashion line. So, as soon as you graduated high school, you packed your bags and moved to the big city - San-Myshuno. There you created your social media platform and blew up! A normal life was never your style, and you made sure to put in as many hours as it would take to achieve all you ever wanted.

Traits: Perfectionist, Self - Assured, Materialistic

Aspiration: City Native

Career: Style Influencer (Stylist Branch)

Goals:

Max photography skill.

Max painting skill.

Must live in San-Myshuno.

Complete the crystals collection.

Hire a nanny for your child and do not spend much time with them.

Gain 10,000 followers on Simstagram.

Generation Six: Resilience

After being known as “the child of the most famous fashion designer” all your life, the city became a toxic place for you. You hated the loud noises, constant stream of people, and just wanted to live a quiet life. You loved visiting your grandmother/father’s house and hearing one of her/his famous stories. You decided to pull inspiration from one of their novels and live off by the coast in the adorable Brindleton Bay. Your passion for crafting and living off the land inspired you to start a small business selling your candles and juice - all locally grown of course.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Creative

Aspiration: Master Maker

Career: Freelancer (Simply Crafted)

Goals:

Max fabrication skill.

Reach level eight in both candle making and juice fizzing.

Move to Brindleton Bay as a young adult.

Have four or more kids.

Complete the frog collection.

Never go to an event in the city or visit the city once you are a young adult.

Generation Seven: Carefree

Being in a big family is can be hectic at times. So, you decided to be the happy jokester in the middle just trying to get people to crack a smile. And you got really good at it. As a major people person, you made sure to get to know everyone you meet. You even started a tradition of taking a picture with them so you could never forget that moment. Your friends will always invite you to go out because you are known for being the life of the party. However, the parties you host, are even better. You decide to live life as if it was one big stage, and you’re the star performer.

Traits: Goofball, Clumsy, Outgoing

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Entertainer (Comedian Branch)

Goals:

Max comedy skill.

Max singing skill.

Host a party every week.

Take a photo of every person who visits you.

Marry someone you met just two days before.

Attend every festival or event you are asked to attend.

Generation Eight: Kind

Expected to be just like your mother/father, no one ever assumed you would be the quiet kid who preferred reading over partied. However, that is exactly who you were. When it was that time of the week for a new social event, you either left for the library or locked yourself in your room, praying it ended soon. Your parents noticed you struggled talking to people, so they allowed you to adopt a puppy once you became a teenager. You and your dog instantly became best friends and you took them everywhere. Even though you may not be great with people, being compassionate was a skill you ranked high in. You always looked out for the less fortunate and wanted to provide in anyway you could.

Traits: Vegetarian, Loner, Good

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Career: Gardner (Floral Designer Branch)

Goals:

Max gardening skill.

Max flower arranging skill.

Keep up a garden of just flowers.

Adopt strays: one dog, and two cats.

Marry an ambitious sim.

Donate $100 to charity weekly.

Generation Nine: Impulsive

You grew up hearing stories of your grandmother/father’s so called “wild days” and fell in love with the energy it brought. However, your mom/dad raised you better than to go out spending life as if there was no consequences. Finding a balance started off to be very challenging for you. You could never hold down relationships and even got pregnant/got someone pregnant twice. It wasn't until you became a secret agent and learned how to live two lifestyles: one full of fun and adventure; the other more stable and structured.

Traits: Active, Non-Committal, Bro

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Career: Secret Agent (Diamond Agent Branch)

Goals:

Max fitness skill.

Max handiness skill.

Go to either college for Psychology and play soccer.

Have four failed relationships and never get married.

Have two children from two different relationships.

Move three times once you become a young adult.

Generation 10: Passionate

Because your mother/father’s job required you to move around so much, making real life friends was a lot harder than it seemed. So, you built your relationships within the online community. Every day, you and your closest friends would hop online and compete in tournaments or even play for fun. As the years went on, you became really good at coding and even started working on your own apps. You looked up to the players from ESports Gaming - only the best gamers in the world - and longed to be sitting in one of their spots. And sure enough, after years of perfecting your strategies and game plays, your dreams came true!

Traits: Geek, Hot-Headed, Outgoing

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru (ESport Gamer Branch)

Goals:

Max programming skill.

Max video gaming skill.

Complete the MySims Trophies collection.

Attend and compete in every Geek Con convention.

Make five video games or apps.

Mentor your child/ren for five hours each.

Adaptations:

Gen 1:

If you do not have Discover University, go into the Business career (Management Branch).

Max cooking skill if you do not have Discover University.

If you do not have City Living, complete the postcards collection.

Gen 2:

Unlock the secret world in Oasis Springs if you do not have Get to Work.

Gen 3:

If you do not have Parenthood but do have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Parenthood and Get to Work, max the gourmet cooking skill.

If you do not have Spa Day but do have Knifty Knitting, max the knitting skill.

If you do not have both Spa Day or Knifty Knitting, max the photography skill.

If you do not have Knifty Knitting, have a side passion of photography.

Gen 4:

If you do not have Discover University, read a new skill book every week instead of attending university.

Gen 5:

If you do not have City Living, have the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration.

If you do not have City Living, live in Oasis Springs.

Gen 6:

Do not have a career if you do not have Eco-Lifestyle. Instead, craft item on the woodworking for money.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, max the fishing skill instead of reaching level eight in candle making and juice fizzing.

If you do not have Cats and Dogs, move to Evergreen Harbor.

If you do not have both Cats and Dogs or Eco-Lifestyle, live in Willow Creek

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the self-assured trait instead.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the Angling Ace aspiration.

Gen 7:

If you do not have City Living but do have Get Together, max the dancing skill.

If you do not have both City Living or Get Together, max the mixology skill.

Gen 8:

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, have the Freelance Botanist aspiration.

Do not have a career if you do not have Seasons. Instead, sell your plants for money.

If you do not have Seasons but have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Seasons or Get to Work, max the violin skill.

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, but have Seasons, own three bees nests and two insect nests instead of owning pets.

If you do not have both Dogs and Cats or Seasons, have three children instead of having three pets.

If you do not have City Living, have the cheerful trait.

Gen 9:

If you do have Strangerville, go into the Military Career (I do not have it, so I played as a Secret Agent)

If you do have Snowy Escape, have the adventurous trait instead of the active trait (I do not have it but believe they would be adventurous).

If you do not have Discover University, read five skill books over different topics, instead of going to college.

Gen 10:

If you do not have City Living, compete in an online tournament weekly instead of going to Geek Con.

#sims #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy #small creator #newchallenge #lilsimsie #clairesiobhan #maxismatch #maxismatchccworld #legacy #sims4 #basegame #traits

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andypantsx3 · 4 years

Text

statistically significant | 7 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

One month later

The Hero Awards certainly did not disappoint the second time around.

Though you’d spent the last few months in the company of some of these heroes, you couldn’t help but linger on the sidelines as they stalked their way down the walkway, staring in awe. As before, they were decked out in their absolute best, glimmering in jewel toned dresses with daring cutouts, or carving dashing profiles in well-fitted suits. Reporters and fans swarmed the sides of the red carpet, roiling like a pot reaching an agitated boil.

Their excitement was so palpable it hung heavy in the air, absolutely contagious. Maybe it was the fact that you knew some of the heroes up for awards tonight personally, but the potential of the evening simmered under your skin, a soft but constant hum of frenetic energy.

Or maybe some of that was due to the fact that this year, you’d been able to convince your boss to shell out the extra cash for the full dinner option. No longer would you need to smuggle snacks into your dress--this evening, you were a solid professional.

Which was a good thing, really, as the dress in question was not altogether any more secure or supportive than your dress from last year. You’d tried to angle for a thicker fabric and a little more of a conservative design, but several people had aired opinions on your choices over the course of the last few weeks, and you’d ended up in a thin swathe of delicate fabric that was really quite pretty, if you did say so yourself, but would support a grand total of maybe two popcorn kernels.

“You’re looking awfully forlorn over here,” someone chirped by your ear.

You startled, whirling to find Mina behind you, looking rosy and radiant in a form-fitting dress only a few shades lighter than her skin tone. Tiny pearls and clusters of glittering pink diamonds were stitched carefully into the fabric, winking at you as she moved, as bright as the conspiratorial grin she wore. She looked absolutely fabulous--she was one of the people who’d bullied you into the snackless gown, and you could begrudgingly admit that the girl had taste.

“Is it because a certain hotheaded blonde isn’t here yet?” she asked, a pink eyebrow going up.

You flushed. “Mina--oh my god, no. Not everything is about him, you know.”

She idly inspected a nail, looking supremely unconvinced. “Someone should tell him that, then.”

You huffed a laugh. The last time you’d been at the Awards, you’d said as much to him yourself. But a year later, the message was still not exactly being received.

“I’m actually thinking about dinner. I’m literally starving,” you complained, trying to divert the subject.

Mina nodded sympathetically. “I have a six pack and I still had to suck in to fit into this shit.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled sympathetically. You weren’t proud of what it was going to be like when you were finally unleashed on that multi-course dinner, but god it was gonna be worth it.

Several shrieks went up in the crowd of fans behind you, and you looked over your shoulder in alarm. Your pulse relaxed slightly when you realized it was just another pro sauntering down the walkway, but then the lights flickered off ashy blonde locks, and your pulse jumped violently. You jerked in surprise.

Mina didn’t even try to suppress her snort as you turned around fully, eyes pulled like a magnet to Bakugou as he stalked down the red carpet. Even looking like he would rather be anywhere else, and moving briskly over the carpet like he was going in for a kill, he still looked better than he had any right to. The charcoal of his suit--stitched with deep ruby flowers so dark they were almost black--brought out the piercing scarlet of his eyes, and your heart leapt into your mouth when those eyes cut over to meet yours.

His expression didn’t change, and he kept moving, but you flushed all the way from your head to your toes at the intensity behind his look.

Mina made a disgusted noise. “You’re both like a dog with a bone.”

You glared at her accusingly. “We literally just looked at each other.”

She clicked her tongue. “Please, he all but just pissed on you to mark his territory.”

Before you could reply, she called out, catching sight of Kirishima, and seized you to drag you over to say hello.

You let Mina drag you around for the next half hour, making polite conversation with her high school friends, a couple of friends from other agencies, and one fashion journalist who Mina had converted into a weekly drinking buddy. Mina kept the conversation light and easy, and you enjoyed yourself for the most part, though you almost passed out when a very distinct head of green curls materialized over her shoulder and then Midoriya Izuku--better known as the number one hero Deku--was smiling at you eagerly.

Things got even weirder when he appeared to not only already know who you were, but knew a great deal about your work, enough to ask some very detailed questions about your training model software that was going into production a couple months from now. Mina had the gall to cut into the conversation to call you both huge nerds, though she’d directly benefited from the model herself.

The conversation was unfortunately cut short when a calloused hand flung itself in front of your face and a rough voice sounded from over your shoulder. “Stop sticking your nose in my fucking business, Deku.”

You whipped around to find Bakugou glaring over your head at his former classmate. His hand closed around your shoulder and dragged you closer to him.

“I was just asking about her model, Kacchan,” Midoriya said patiently. “It’ll be great to be able to compare my movements directly with some of the other heroes in almost real time! Ojirou’s been trying out some new fighting forms and I was thinking I should try to adapt them to work into my shoot style--”

“Just because you couch it in nerd shit doesn’t mean you’re not trying to spy on me, fuckstick,” Bakugou said. “Stop poking your nose into my relationship like the town fucking gossip.”

Midoriya flushed a little, looking slightly chastened when you turned back to him in question. He gave you an embarrassed little smile. “I did want to meet you for reasons other than your model. Kacchan’s been my friend since I was little, and I wondered what kind of person could interest him so much he wanted my perspective on your work--”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou demanded, but he wasn’t fast enough.

You perked up in interest. “He asked you what?”

Bakugou bristled like a cat being dangled over a bath, but Midoriya was paying him no mind. “Right after the last Hero Awards, he’d done all this research and he asked me about whether your model results lined up with some of the personal analysis that I was doing--”

“Deku,” Bakugou’s fingers tightened on your arm, growing alarmingly warm. “If you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’m going to punch all of your teeth straight down your throat and into your stomach.”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya protested, but he was interrupted by a call on the overhead for everyone to start taking their places in the theater interior for the awards to begin.

Bakugou used the distraction to pry you away from Midoriya. In the blink of an eye, he’d gotten you across the theater and was corralling you towards the Miruko agency tables, looking like he’d sucked on a lemon. You stifled a laugh. You’d wondered a couple months ago exactly how and when he’d figured out you were quirkless, and he’d once asked if you thought you were the only one who’d done their research.

If things were anything like you were starting to suspect, your demands that he do better at the Hero Awards had apparently aroused his interest in more ways than one.

You and Bakugou hadn’t exactly settled on formal terms for your relationship yet, and he still more often than not answered any of your interest with the assertion that you were the one with the crush on him. But this was more evidence--beyond the mysterious coffees that showed up at your workstation almost every morning--that your interest was more intensely reciprocated than he was willing to own up to.

By the time you’d settled at a table and been flanked by a grinning Mina and Kaminari, the awards were getting underway. They were thrilling to watch, something you’d had to miss out on last year when you needed to sneak out with a giant hole in the front of your dress. The heroes you’d worked with this year raked in an insane number of awards, and their elation was palpable, so thick you could almost taste it in the air. The pair of men with satyr horns were named the Best Rookie Duo, Miruko was awarded Takedown of the Year, and Kaminari clocked the Fastest Fight Win for a battle last month in which he’d rendered a villain with an aluminum quirk insensate only seconds into the fight.

A very unfortunate match up, you thought.

Mina nabbed an award for Fan Favorite, and in almost no time, it was the moment that you’d been nervously awaiting since nominations had gone out. You’d cheated, doing your own calculations behind everyone’s backs just to get a clearer picture of what his chances were, and you rather liked his odds, but there was always a chance it wouldn’t go how you thought. But this was the moment that Bakugou was up for Most Valuable Hero.

You barely heard any of the words the host was saying as he trotted out the names of the nominees, detailing some of their key accomplishments. He covered Bakugou's latest slew of assists and rescues, stats that made you feel kind of weirdly warm and proud, and then your ears strained for the syllables you’d hoped to hear.

And then:

“The winner is...our explosive number six, Ground Zero!”

It took everything in you not to leap out of your seat in joy, though something like a strangled squeal managed to escape you. Bakugou gave you an evaluating look as he got to his feet, stalking up on stage with his usual intensity.

As soon as he was up there, it struck you that allowing him time for an acceptance speech was maybe not a great idea. Graciousness was not exactly a strength of his.

“Obviously I’m the most valuable,” he growled into the mic. The stage lights glinted off his hair and teeth, making him look slightly more predatory than usual. “I didn’t need you fucks to tell me.”

A choking noise could be heard from Kirishima’s seat a couple tables over, and Mina put her head in her hands.

“What’s important is that I’m number six now and it only took me a month,” Bakugou’s head swiveled in the direction of Midoriya and you suppressed a groan. “Don’t get fucking comfortable. I’m gonna wipe the floor with every one of the top five, and next awards you’ll all be kissing my ass.”

He didn’t seem like he had much more he wanted to say, which was an incredible relief as both the host and nearby security looked about ready to wrestle him offstage.

He leapt neatly down from the stage, and when he made it back to the table, he didn’t take his seat again. Instead, he grabbed your arm, hauling you out of your seat, and then he was pulling you down the aisle and through the door to the reception area.

He pulled you past the snack table and you thought he was steering you towards the stairwell again, but at the last second he took a sudden turn, shoving you through a door into the women’s powder room. You didn’t even have enough time to formulate a question before he had you backed up against the wall, your shoulders hitting the cool stone at the same time his mouth hit yours.

His kiss was hot and demanding as always, and you lost yourself in it easily. He trailed a line of burning kisses down your neck and over your shoulder, making you shudder and shake when he lingered too long over any particular spot.

It was hard to think past the press of his body on yours, but you tried your best to formulate words.

“Katsuki--it’s--we’re in the women’s room,” you panted, embarrassed by the fact that even as you spoke, you were clutching him closer. “This is--what are you--? S-someone’s gonna come in.”

Bakugou broke apart from you just long enough to level a searching glance around the room and--spotting what he’d been looking for--hefting the trashcan in front of the door with a forceful kick to stop it shut.

“There, nerd. Now stop fucking complaining,” he rasped, immediately attaching his mouth back under your jaw. You shuddered.

“What the fuck has gotten into you,” you demanded, seizing a fistful of his blonde hair to pull him back from where he was leaving what felt like a very deep bruise over your collarbone.

He leveled you with a burning, red-eyed stare. “Like you don’t fucking know.”

You looked at him in question. “...I actually don’t.”

He tried to lean in again but you gripped his hair harder. “What? You can’t just keep throwing me up against walls, especially here. What is it with you and shoving me into weird places at the Hero Awards?”

Bakugou growled. “If you don’t shut the fuck up and let me do what I want, I’m gonna burn throught this dress too.”

You froze up, then glared at him accusingly. “I literally write the code that processes your rank. If you ever wanna come within sniffing distance of the top three, you won’t touch a single thread of this dress.”

The hands on you grew hot, but not hot enough to burn. Bakugou slid a calloused hand over the curve of your waist, thumb brushing the underside of your breast.

“God, the fuckin’ attitude on you,” he said, almost reverently.

You felt your face warm under his scrutiny as he leaned closer. “You wanna know what's gotten into me? I wanted to melt that entire fucking thing off you last year. You were so fucking mouthy, such a little brat to me. Wanted to rip your dress off and fuck you right in the stairwell until you forgot you’d ever even heard of numbers.”

You shivered. Bakugou smirked, eyes darkening, leaning back in to bite under your jaw. You realized you’d lost your grip on him and willed your fingers to cooperate again.

“I fucking won that stupid award because I let you boss me around. I've waited an entire year. Now you’re gonna let me do whatever I want with you.”

Your legs went out from beneath you but Bakugou was already there, catching you under your thighs and hauling you up onto the countertop between the sinks. Your back brushed the mirror, glass cold under your shoulder blades.

“Y--you know, if you actually want to be number one, you can’t make speeches like you did,” you babbled nervously as he filled the space between your thighs. “Your public approval rating is part of your ranking, right? It’s weighted right below rescues…”

Bakugou paid you no mind, fingers already searching over your back to find the zipper to your dress. He yanked it down with little ceremony, seizing the front of your bodice to pull it off of you.

“I don’t need to be fucking nice if I’m the one saving the day,” he announced imperiously, leaning down to capture a nipple with his mouth.

Your hips jerked, and he pressed a hand to your thigh, holding you back down against the counter. Dimly, you registered that the words were familiar. “N--not--ah!--not this again.”

Bakugou didn’t deign to respond, instead doing something absolutely mind-bending with his tongue. You swore loudly, catching a fistful of his jacket. “Fuck, Katsuki!”

A hot palm slid up your thigh, gathering up the soft material of your skirt until he could slip a hand underneath. Calloused fingers trailed over your core with obvious intention. You inhaled sharply when he pressed them into you, leaning up to cover your mouth with his again.

Bakugou had you squirming wildly against him in barely a minute, snorting when you tried to get a hand on his zipper.

“Want me that bad, nerd?” he asked, pressing forehead to yours in an oddly tender move.

“If you don’t hurry the fuck up I’m gonna finish things myself,” you threatened, though Bakugou did not look at all as if he believed you.

He helped you get his zipper down, taking himself in hand, but he stopped just as he brushed your entrance, leaning forward to bite another kiss into your mouth.

“Now it’s time for you to make good on your end of the bet,” he growled, a smirk growing over his features. “You’ll tell me I’m the best and I was right all along.”

You stilled underneath him, disbelieving. “Are you--are you fucking serious.”

Bakugou pressed forward, just enough for you to feel the pressure of him on your clit. You fought down a noise like a whimper. Damn him.

“I jumped two ranks,” he said. “You’ll tell me I’m the best if you want me, nerd.”

“I am not gonna beg for you like this,” you announced, though it sounded a little more like a question than you had wanted it to.

Bakugou brushed his thumb over your clit again and little sparks danced over the corner of your vision. “Mmm, you’re gonna scream.”

You felt something like a tension snap inside you. Fuck it. He was so annoying but holy shit if he wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever encountered. If he needed his ego stroked, well it wasn’t nearly as much as you needed your own stroking.

You grit your teeth. “Ugh, fine--just--you’re the best, and you were right all along. Now will you please--”

You didn’t even get to finish before he was sinking into you, narrow hips fitting flush with your thighs. You swore at the feeling of fullness, and then he was moving, picking up into a frantic pace. He leaned forward, sealing his mouth over yours to swallow all the little noises you were making. It was mere minutes before you were shivering underneath him again, moving your hips to meet his, desperate for more, Katsuki, more.

“Ah fuck--so fucking good for me,” he grunted against your mouth, giving a particularly hard thrust, and that was all it took to unravel you.

You stifled a scream in the thick fabric of his jacket, arching up into him. He cursed and followed after you with a few more short thrusts, crushing you against the counter when he let his weight go slack.

You panted underneath him, catching your breath while your fingers slowly unclenched themselves from the hem of his suit jacket. Bakugou rubbed his face in the hollow of your shoulder, radiating smug satisfaction.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, nerd?” he rasped, biting down lightly where he’d left the hickey earlier.

You pulled back, looking into his face again. He looked far too pleased with himself, but he was so handsome like this, all messy hair and a kiss darkened mouth. Your irritation with him fizzled out a little.

He flashed you a predatory grin. “You said it yourself--I'm the fucking best.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop your hand from coming up and tangling in his hair. “Shut the fuck up.”

Bakugou, predictably, did not look as if he was going to shut the fuck up at all. So you took matters into your own hands, and leaned in and kissed him again.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou

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archaxwii · 3 years

Text

A Safe Place to Stay

Warnings: This story contains safe, soft, consensual, non-sexual vore. As well as g/t content. If you do not like any of that please do not read.

This is the part 2 to my first Skephalo vore fic. Sorry for how long this took to come out, I originally meant for this to be out like 2 weeks after the first one but life got really busy and my motivation has been completely shot, but hey it's here now so pog. —

Skeppy was having a bit of a rough day today. He'd come back from his bi-weekly therapy visit from Puffy, and he clearly wasn't handling the old memories being brought up too well.

Bad had been working on cleaning and rearranging the mansion a bit when Skeppy came up behind him, deciding to leap on his back and cling to him like a heavy, diamond sloth. Luckily he was in his smaller form or Bad would have fallen face first on the floor... he still would've appreciated a bit more of a warning because if he hadn't realized it was Skeppy on him he would have grabbed him and flung him straight into the nearest wall.

Bad really wanted to be upset with Skeppy, but it was very clear that he was actually distressed and Bad didn't want to make him any more miserable.

So now he was currently sitting on their shared bed with a tiny Skeppy lying on his chest.

For a moment Bad almost thought Skeppy had fallen asleep, since they were having a rare moment of silence as he gently pet (pat? petted?) his head similar to how you would soothe a cat. He wouldn't have minded if they just stayed like this for the rest of the day, but Bad did still have things he wanted to do today.

"Are you ever gonna let me get up, Skep?" He gently asked, not stopping his petting.

Skeppy was silent for a moment before attempting to bury his head furthering into Bad's chest, whining," Nooo, stay and cuddle with me please..." Bad couldn't tell how serious Skeppy was being, but it hurt to hear nonetheless.

"But Skeppy, I have stuff I need to do today! I have a meeting with Ant and Ponk soon, and we need food, you wanna be able to eat tomorrow right?" He was mostly teasing, but he'd hate to have to do it all tomorrow.

Skeppy's only response was another drawn out whine.

" Hmm, do you want me to carry you on my shoulders like I used to do with Sapnap when he was a kid?" He offered, trying to come up with a compromise.

Skeppy shook his head." Don't wanna be outside right now. It's too much." He mumbled.

Bad sighed. Maybe he should just take the day off...he hated leaving Skeppy like this.

They sat in silence for another minute while Bad thought. He did have one idea, but he wasn't sure Skeppy would like it.

Bad let out another contemplative "hmm"."...There is something I can do, so I can still do my errands, I'm not too sure you'd like it, though." He tentatively proposed.

Skeppy shifted a little to look up at him." Mm? What's that?" He said tiredly.

Bad gave him a small grin." You're kind of sitting on top of it." He hinted.

For a few moments Skeppy only stared at him with confusion, before it finally sunk in what he had said.

It had become very routine for Skeppy to eat Bad after they'd both had a tiring day. It happened at least once or twice a week now, but so far Bad had never been the one to eat Skeppy, maybe now he finally could.

Skeppy gazed at him nervously, moving to sit on his knees to look at him better." I- I don't know Bad, we've never done that before." He rubbed his arms anxiously.

Bad smiled at him reassuringly, softly holding Skeppy's hands in his." I know we haven't, but you know it's safe! You've done it to me dozens of times by now, I promise it'll make you feel better! And if it doesn't, I can always bring you back up and we can try something else." He explained calmly.

Skeppy fidgeted a bit. He knew it was safe, and he knew how much Bad enjoyed it, but it still made him nervous to think about being eaten alive.

Instead of giving an answer, he shifted down, pressing an ear against Bad's stomach, probably flustering the heck out of the poor demon. He closed his eyes, imagining what it would be like inside.

He thought of all the times Bad had told him about how warm it was, how safe he felt. He had described it as though he felt nothing could hurt him. Warm. Safe. Surrounded by his best friend.

It sounded like exactly what he wanted.

On any other day he probably would have said no, but he was so tired, reliving those memories had left him completely drained, he wanted to be with Bad so desperately.

Skeppy let out a long, drawn out sigh.

"Sure...you can...eat me..." He hated every word of that sentence but he couldn’t deny the hopeful, happy grin Bad gave him.

Bad's tail thumped rapidly against the bed like a dog’s." Thank you so much, Skeppy! I promise if you are scared or don't want to do it anymore at all I will immediately stop, ok?" He affirmed.

Skeppy nodded slowly, not making eye contact.

"Is it ok if I pick you up?" Bad inquired softly.

Skeppy nodded once again, he wasn't sure he could speak anyway.

Bad slowly lifted Skeppy up to his mouth." I'm gonna have to lick you and stuff so you don't get hurt on the way down, ok?" Skeppy simply nodded again, just wanting to get it over with.

Bad carefully placed Skeppy into his mouth, carefully avoiding the sharp teeth. He had a shockingly sour but sweet taste, like that fake blue raspberry flavor. It took Bad a moment to adjust to, but his mouth was flooded with saliva.

Skeppy froze as Bad covered him in short, rapid licks, coating him in layers of thick saliva. He decided it was incredibly disgusting. Although he did have to admit it was pleasantly warm, like suddenly been dropped into a hot bath, he couldn't imagine what it felt like the deeper he went.

The demon was clearly enjoying himself, he drew Skeppy in a little further, leaving him no choice but to stare down the dark tunnel of Bad's throat. It didn't last long, though, as Bad's mouth shut with a click behind him.

Skeppy squirmed as he was left in darkness, not sure if it was worse or better than seeing the full picture.

The licking gradually halted and Bad, unable to really speak, gave him a questioning hum. Asking if Skeppy was ready to be eaten.

Well, Skeppy didn't think he'd really ever be ready, the real question was," Does he trust Bad?"

I mean, was that even a question?

He reluctantly gave the roof of Bad's mouth a pat and he was swiftly swallowed down.

He was concerned that the heavy, crushing sensations that pulsed across his whole body were going to break something, before he remembered that Bad was much squishier than he was and had yet to be hurt by all the times Skeppy had eaten him.

As he was dragged down deeper he slid past Bad's loud and thunderous heart, making his head spin. Maybe he should've gone feet first...

After a few more swallows and seconds that felt like an eternity, Skeppy spilled into a slightly larger more open area.

He laid still for a couple moments to recover, which was apparently too long for Bad as he nervously asked," Are you alright, Skeppy?"

"Yea...I'm alright, just give me a sec." Skeppy breathily replied.

" Oh no, I didn't hurt you did I?" Bad anxiously pressed a hand to his stomach.

"No, no, you're fine, I just...wasn't expecting all that, I'm alright, I promise." Skeppy said hastily to not worry Bad anymore.

Bad visibly relaxed, and started rubbing slow circles into his stomach.

Skeppy was quick to move over to where Bad's hand was and lean against it.

The comforting sensation was enough to clear his head a bit and make him realize where exactly he was right now. He was in Bad's stomach. That was so weird. But...he wasn't sure he could bring himself to hate it.

It was almost too warm, and Skeppy grimaced at the thought of having to clean out the slick slime that he and his clothes were coated in. It was loud too, Skeppy could still hear the hammering of Bad's heart and the deep breaths the demon took, and if he listened closer he could hear the rest of Bad's body toiling away as well.

But...he didn't hate it, it all served to remind him that he was with Bad. At the very core of his being where no one could hurt him. Within his very best friend who he loved so dearly. Bad was protecting him with his whole being, and Skeppy trusted him to do so.

"Are you ok?" Bad gently asked, trying to casually lean back into his bed and not freak out over Skeppy's complete trust in him.

Skeppy didn't verbally respond, but instead decided to turn around and start rubbing the walls of the stomach like Bad would do for him.

Bad stiffened before all but melting from Skeppy touch, he'd never gotten to experience this from the outside before and he wasn't prepared at all for how it would feel.

Bad's eyes slipped closed and he couldn't stop the raspy purring that emitted from his throat.

Skeppy almost stopped as the chamber vibrated lightly from a seemingly unknown source, before he remembered this was the sound Bad would sometimes make when he felt clingy and they cuddled together in bed. He only did it when he felt really happy and comfortable.

Skeppy smiled at being able to elicit this rare happiness from Bad, and practically doubled his efforts.

Eventually they both tired out and decided it was time for bed. Skeppy lied down, pressing himself against the stomach walls, not caring about the extra layer of slime that coated him, and Bad continued to lie on his back, but protectively wrapping both of his arms around his belly.

They exchanged their good nights and drifted into sleep, Skeppy feeling warm and safe at last, and Bad feeling content and happy to protect Skeppy.

#tw vore #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #soft vore #safe vore #ember's writing #g/t Bad #g/t Skeppy #Apologies for the generic title it is Late and I am Tired

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goatskickin · 3 years

Photo

When we last left the family, they’d narrowly avoided dying en masse from the flu. Patrick was very near to the top of the Culinary career track, with just a little ways left to go. Hope continued in her elderly decline. Aunties Rishell and Aiyanna came by to say hello and eat the family’s food.

What will happen next?

“You must be more careful with the computer, it has your father’s recipes on it!”

“Does it also have the list of your other boyfriends on it? Or is that list too long?”

The week begins. Monday is here and Joey the Comb takes his weekly cut.

The elder Springs-Eternal child is hard at work learning the ropes of household care.

The younger prepares herself with skills that can be used in future adult work.

Sweet Patrick continues to grind away to get enough skills to finally clear the Culinary restriction.

This can be difficult in such a small space. Everyone seems to hang out in the parent’s room/main room, giving Patrick little peace for studying.

At least one family member keeps their distance during Patrick’s skilling sessions.

“Ka-BOOM! The landmines work!”

Patrick finds moments of quiet when he can.

They are very quickly interrupted however.

Justice is nearing adulthood. Besides skilling and soon needing to be the primary cook for the family, he’s been working on making friends.

He’s yet to meet one single teen other than Benji. But anyway.

That’s the key to making friends as an almost-adult: keep the bar low. Find any schmo that walks by and ask them to play catch. They might say yes!

Patrick continues to burn the midnight oil. He needs to reach level 10 in Cooking and Creativity in order to get to the top of the Culinary track.

There’s little peace in the Springs-Eternal household, however.

Hey my name is JUSTICE, my life kinda SUCKS

What’s up daddy PATRICK, give me the big BUCKS

so I can take out the ladies, of which I know MANY

I’d probably hold her HAND, you know, if she’d LET ME

Poor Justice is ill-suited to having a Fortune aspiration. He turns to desperate measures to get even paltry aspiration boost.

The random townie finds the bar upstairs.

“Yeah, once I’m Pitstop Valley’s biggest baseball/football star, I’ll be on all the TV’s. I’ve only read about television, but like, big important guys are on them, I know that.”

*hic* “Heykidyougot *hic* *urp* anyfoodinthishouse. Ineedtocarb *hic* up.”

“You smell like a bar. Why did Justice let you come in? Uh, I guess he hasn’t had any friends his age ever, not even since he could walk -”

“Mercy, shut up! Leave my friend alone.”

“Do you think your friend would like a hot dog dear? I know we’ve-”

“Everyone please, I am trying to read here...”

“Wasn’t it funny when we got the flu and then we played in the snow outside mom! Let’s go outside now! So Dad can read his dumb old book.”

Instead, Hope manages to find the bar.

If anyone need no reason to drink, it’s Hope.

“I haven’t got much time. Thursday is coming up soon and I need to be ready to impress. I need to be one step ahead, and when-”

“Dad, hi, so when a girl says “I’m too old for you”, that’s like, a come-on, right? I want to respect her, but like, girls are so confusing-”

Unfortunate townies continue to be Justice’s primary source of entertainment and his connection to the outside world.

Couldn’t possibly be that they decide to take Justice up on his offer to socialize because the family usually decides to make the day’s meal when a guest is over...

*sighs* “Okay, I just need to press on and finish this chapter of my children’s book. Certainly a well-rounded and creative person would impress-”

“Pearl necklaces! And a new dress. Maybe a set of diamond earrings? That is what I’d want for a wedding gift, personally.”

“And you’d be due all of the finery in the world! You deserve it...uh...what’s you name again?”

“DAD LOOK my paper about a warship where everyone dies at the end got a B-! See! I even got a special note from the teacher, ‘Concerned for you; please see me after class.’ Cool, right?!”

Patrick’s feeling the pressure to meet his career obligations before he reaches old age. It’s coming up fast - Patrick should be aging up after his next day of work.

“And then I was like, “I’m the chief of staff, if I want to make water balloon turkeys out of latex gloves, you can’t stop me - Patrick do you hear that?”

“You, Hope? Yes I hear you, unfort - wait yes, is someone on the stairs?”

“...Hope darling, go upstairs with the kids. Someone’s coming.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please go upstairs.”

“Patrick, I’m scared-”

“Please go upstairs Hope, I will talk with whoever it is.”

“Hi, I’mreallysorryMr.Springs-Eternal-”

“Benji, it’s okay. Can I help you? You’re already in my house. Can I help you?”

“We are here on behalf of Joey the Comb. We have an offer for you.”

“We’ve already paid our money for the week.”

“This isn’t about that. Joey is looking to make you an offer. You are a pretty big name chef, right? You’ll like what I have to say.”

“He’s been watching you, the restaurant. You are doing pretty well for yourself. But there’s always room for improvement, right? We are here to make you a good offer.”

“Caden, come on, you don’t have to-”

“Benji, not now. ... Patrick, it must be exhausting to keep coming up with ideas for those high-falutin dishes when you’ve only got canned and dried crap to work with. Creme de la pumpkin puree, canned vegetable au gratin, all that shit. Joey’s got something that can up your game.”

“Fresh produce. Smell those? Yeah, those are real oranges. Grown by Joey’s people. Not that canned crap - real off-the-vine oranges.”

“Caden, oranges don’t grow on vines...”

“Benji, shut the fuck up. ...

...Joey would like to make you an offer. He knows you want this. Fresh produce, as much as the restaurant can handle. Herbs too.”

“Young man, get that crate off my computer. What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Joey gives you something you want, and you provide a service for the family. That’s all. Give and take, just as nature intended.”

...

“What would the ‘take’, be then?”

“In exchange, Joey will need you to....look the other way while we move some product. In the fruit and vegetable delivery, there may be another item that you will need to store for us. We know you’ve got ample space in your walk-in cooler and dry storage. Just hold on to some product for us, and be ready to exchange it when produce is dropped off.”

....

“We’ll give you a little time to think about it. But don’t want too long. You don’t run the only restaurant in Pitstop Valley.”

“Just consider it Mr. Springs-Eternal. We really hate to show up unannounced like this, but it’s not like we could call you ahead of time, ha ha! ...

Um, sorry about Caden too he’s like, whatever, he kinda sucks. But please think about it. Say hi to Justice for me! And like, your salsa verde cauliflower burgers are my favorite, by the way. Sorry to drop in on you like this. Please think about it.”

~~~

As Patrick’s next day back at work approaches, the family does what they can to give Dad space to prepare.

“And the foot soldiers will be stationed here, next to the trenches. What the enemy won’t see coming is the rocket launchers, as they will be in the ditch behind the trenches, ready to strike...”

Hope’s inaction in old age has its first negative consequence.

“MOM! The carpool is here! MOM!!! Come on, you need to leave for work!”

...and that’s how Hope gets let go from her position as Chief of Staff. Under the Slacker restriction, if a sim misses a SINGLE day of work for any reason, they must quit their job. Retiring is not an option, so any hope of money from a pension is gone.

“So Patrick, we had a visitor last night?”

“What! And I didn’t get to say hi! Who was it? When? Was I asleep?”

“You’d try to make friends with a piece of cardboard dummy, I’m sure you will get another chance to bore someone.”

“Shut up Mercy, I’m *trying* to network-”

...

“Patrick?”

“Just a work friend. Sorry, it wasn’t anything you all need to concern yourselves with.”

Justice and Mercy attempt to give their father space to skill for the day.

As usual, Mercy has to do it her way, and ends up getting frozen as a result.

Justice does too, but takes it all in stride.

“I call this one “The Starfish”! OOGIE OOGIE OOGIE”

Hope’s decline is more apparent now that she’s home all day.

“You know, *I* used to be a doctor.”

Mercy and Patrick will grow up about the same time. The day is fast approaching.

Patrick is very close to having all the skills he’ll need for the promotion.

It’s going to be a very close call, however.

He still makes time for family, no matter how annoying they’ve been these past couple of days (and always).

“Babe, aren’t you done yet? Come on, how much more could you possibly have to learn?”

*yawns* “Hope my sweet, I need to just finish this paragraph...”

“Oh, my hardworking Patrick. What a doll!”

“Okay family, today’s the big day. I’ve got to impress.”

“You got it Dad! We are here to help. Mercy is sharpening your knives right now.”

“Sharpening - what, your sister is...WHAT-”

Justice stays out of the way by greeting yet another townie.

Rishell and Aiyanna stop by to eat food and annoy Patrick offer moral support for Patrick’s last chance to skill before going back to work.

With just hours to spare, Patrick finally reaches the top of the Creativity skill.

LET’S GO PATRICK LET’S GOOOOOO

The townie that Justice has invited in has been one of the prettiest so far. But after seeing how stressed his father was over having the skills to reach the top of his career track, Justice must consider what’s most important in a future spouse.

“So do you have skills?”

“Skills? What?”

“It’s important to me that surround myself with intellectuals who can fend for themselves. What do you know?”

“Huh? Listen, do you guys have food or not?”

Rishell and Aiyanna had no such pressures to consider in their day. They are together simply because they love each other.

Mercy continues to bring home unsuspecting townie children.

“MOM I got a B+ in math! LOOK MOM!”

“Mercy, I was sleeping...”

“Do you guys wanna hear about my B+?”

“I liked your presentation about world domination. It was funny.”

“Okay, well, it was intended to rouse my fellow comrades and strike fear in the hearts of my enemies. But if it was funny, that’s cool too.”

The aunties stick around all day to wait for Patrick’s return home.

This townie does as well. Justice decides to be bold and invite his new friend to recline with him on the Murphy bed.

“So heh-I uh...we don’t have a couch and like, if you want-”

“I’m only waiting here for food, don’t get any big ideas.”

Not to worry - Hope is here to dispel any awkwardness.

The man of the hour makes it home at 10pm after his long shift.

And he’s done it! The top of the Culinary track.

Once a culinary master emerges from the household, they invent new ways to preserve food, and better ways to cook the artificial food. They have learned to rewire home appliances so they can be used again. They also open up supply chains to coffee growers. All culinary restrictions are lifted.

He’s also brought home another work friend for Justice to harass get to know.

And it’s the eve of Patrick’s elder transition as well. He’s fortunate to have an acceptable outfit to age up into.

“Way to go Patrick! You really outdid yourself today. And looking good!”

The first thing the family does after clearing the Culinary restriction is buy an actual stove. No smoke detector though (Law Enforcement restriction).

Patrick, always having been lighter of spirit than Hope, slips into senility a little faster than she did.

“OOGIE OOGIE OOGIE!”

He’s kept his eyebrows and beard red (for some reason) but is otherwise the same ol’ Patrick.

And he hasn’t forgotten Hope! “Hope, my rhubarb crumble, you are looking most ravishing in the candlelight!”

“Mercy, come here and eat.”

“After this move! What are we having.”

“Uh, it’s cereal? I don’t know, after dad’s promotion he brought home all kinds of stuff.”

“What’s cereal? Is it like hot dogs?”

“No! It’s - listen, just get over here and eat breakfast, dummy.”

“Orange soda! My, I haven’t had this in decades.”

The family is quite grateful for the change in food offered. It seems as though Patrick managed to reach the top of the Culinary just in time too. His elder decline has been a lot more rapid than Hope’s.

“Hehe, you know Rishell and Aiyanna...hehe, you know...”

“Yeah, they’re married Dad? What’s your point?”

Patrick is still sweet as ever though! Much to Justice’s chagrin.

“And with the final topple of capitalism, my plan - ooh I feel kinda funny-”

Forgotten again is Mercy’s birthday.

Oh well! She grows up alone.

She grows up well, into some winterwear. First time for everything in this family.

As the Education restriction is in effect, she rolls for her aspiration, and gets Pleasure.

A Knowledge secondary should help with some more attainable wants however. Plus, the perks are good.

“YOOHOO Justice, guess who’s big enough to kick your butt now! You wanna play Red Hands?”

*yawn* “Beat it Mercy...unless you want to start a pushup competition with me...”

And that’s where we are going to leave it for now!

What adventures await elderly Patrick? Will Mercy’s plans for military domination suffer or thrive now that she isn’t allowed to go to school anymore? Who will Justice choose for an heir?

Until next time, Carry On, Woman!

#apocalypse challenge #apocalypse C.O.W.#sims 2 story

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years

Text

Damian Wayne with an s/o with Intangibility

Anonymous said: Can you do one where reader has kitty pryde powers from x-men with Damian?

A/N: I hope this is what you wanted. I’ve never written for Damian before so excuse me if this isn’t the greatest. I hope you like it though!

You met Damian as Robin when you both snuck into the same habitat at the petting zoo to free the cats and dogs who were so likely being ill treated

You phased right through the office, grabbed a pair of the keys and then phased through the door to try and open it from the inside

You found that it wasn’t getting unlocked

Confused, you poked your head through the door to find masked eyes staring back at you and you screamed

Cue Robin slamming a hand over your mouth

“Are you trying to get us both caught?”

The reason that you weren’t able to get the door open was because he was picking the lock from the other side at the same time

So, the two of you calmly let out the kittens and puppies, taking a couple in your arms so you could leave them at a responsible shelter and he took a few to get home

Cue a week later

You’re walking around in a park, minding your own business

And a puppy runs up to you

You recognize it as one of the dogs that Robin took home

And then a vaguely familiar boy comes over to get the puppy and the cogs in your head are turning

*GASP* “You’re Ro—”

“Are you trying to get my identity blown?”

That pretty much confirms it

He threatens you quickly after that but you choose to take it with a spoonful of sugar

“I’m glad to see you’re taking care of the puppy.”

“Tt. I am disgusted at the way its previous shelter cared for him.”

“I heard that there’s another shelter down the road that does the same. We should go check it out.”

And so, you do

The two of you pose as young adorable kids who just want all the puppy love

Which to be fair, you are

And thus, begins your great mission to help all the kitties and puppies in Gotham

You and Damian meet up weekly and free little kitties and puppies and sometimes birds and hamsters and take them to responsible shelters

And you get closer doing that

You see the soft side to Damian that he doesn’t show many people

He takes you one day into the bat cave, to see Goliath

He can’t take you the traditional way, of course

So, you have to phase through and get in

And then you meet Damian’s older brother, Nightwing

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Grayson, leave us be, we don’t need a babysitter.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you with your girlfriend, but no funny business.”

When he left, you turned to Damian with a confused face

“You didn’t tell him that I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

“Are you not my girlfriend?”

“We’re not even dating Damian.”

“Dating is spending time with someone that you are romantically attracted to, yes?”

“Well yes—”

“Then, in a sense, haven’t we been dating for the past few weeks?”

“It’s not dating if the other person doesn’t know about it!”

“Well, now you know.”

“Yes but—Whatever, okay.”

You don’t speak about it again

But you’ve begun dating officially

And you think that things are going to remain the same because he’s so nonchalant

But you’re wrong

Something is different even if it’s not completely apparent

Because he starts brining you over to the manor and you get to meet the rest of his brothers

And thus, begins the start of a beautiful relationship

You liked to joke around that you’ll phase through him and rearrange his intestines

Even though he doesn’t show any fear

He’s secretly afraid that you’ll actually do it one day

You spend more time in the Batcave than you expected

At first Batman was insistent that you couldn’t come and locked the door multiple times, even electrocuting it

But when you phased through all of it, even the lead, he just gave up

One day Damian came down to the Batcave to find you and Jason training

Well Jason was doing target practice on you

And you were letting the bullets phase through you

Damian freaks out

“Shoot another bullet at my beloved Todd and I will spear your hands with my katana!”

“Wow, beloved, that’s new.”

You’re not allowed in the Batcave anymore without him

You notice how stressed out he gets whenever you visit his house so you opt for him to come over to your place

He suddenly turns into the most well-mannered prince

And your parents are starstruck anyway cuz hello he’s a Wayne

And you’re just like ‘omg mom please no he doesn’t have a diamond chandelier cuz that’s not a thing’

In the end

Damian is sometimes a little hard to crack

And he usually doesn’t show his true emotions

But once you can get him to open up to you

He is the sweetest, most thoughtful

And he loves you so much that you can’t help but fall deeper every time you spend time together

#damian wayne #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne headcanon #damian wayne imagine #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batboys #robin x y/n #robin x reader #robin headcanon

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wonder-womans-ex · 4 years

Text

And the Song Keeps Playing

In June, Remus comes home from work to find a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He glances through them—People, US Weekly, Star, a couple Vanity Fair. Something catches on his thumb, and he flips to the one dog-eared page. Across the top of pages 25 and 26, the words ELEVEN TIPS FOR GETTING INTO FILM ACTING are written in golden yellow block letters, surrounded by stars of the same colour—the kind Remus imagines one would find on an actor’s dressing room door.

He doesn’t think anything of it, however, because that’s when Sirius steps out of the kitchen. They smile when they see each other, and Sirius walks over and kisses him, not even seeming to notice the magazine still in Remus’s hands.

In July, Sirius buys a new leather jacket. It’s smooth and shiny, not at all like the old worn one with all the patches and pins that Remus gave him for their fourth anniversary. He only ever wears the new one in the apartment—never outside—and Remus finds the receipt for one thousand fifty-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents in the wastepaper basket. He tries to ignore the fact that he’s the one who pays most of the rent that month.

In August, they spend a week at a cute little cabin on a lake, the same as they do every year. It is, as always, as close to perfection as anything will ever be. Remus makes tacos the first three nights and grilled cheese the other four and they feed each other ice cream and drink what Sirius says must be at least twice their weight in lemonade. They sleep outside, under the night sky, and promise they’ll protect each other from bears and take turns pointing out constellations.

“That’s me, Remus,” Sirius says, gesturing upwards, voice slurred with exhaustion and alcohol. “I’m a star.”

“You really are,” Remus whispers into his hair. He doesn’t know why he feels like crying. “You really, really are.”

In September, they drive out to the countryside and pick apples from an orchard owned by Remus’s second cousin twice removed on his mother’s side. Sirius bites into one on the way home and makes a face of disgust because there’s a worm in the middle.

Remus says, “Make a wish,” because some people have eyelashes or shooting stars or birthday candles, but they have apples with worms inside.

It’s the first time in a long time that Sirius doesn’t tell him what it is that he’s wishing for.

In October, Remus starts writing another book. This one is about a pilot who crashes on a deserted island, and Remus knows nothing about piloting, so he opens the computer to look up plane.

Bile rises in his throat and his world begins to come crashing down around him when Google fills in the rest of the search bar with tickets to LA.

By November, he’s expecting it. He unlocks the door and walks into what feels like emptiness. He’s gone, he thinks, and some part of him desperately hopes it’s true, but it isn’t. Because Sirius is in the bedroom, and his bags are packed, but he hasn’t left yet.

He looks up when Remus enters, shoes quiet—but not quiet enough—on the carpet. Their eyes meet for a split second before Remus’s gaze flickers away and locks onto the carefully folded piece of paper on his pillow.

So Sirius had planned to leave without saying goodbye, then.

There’s a click as the last latch on the suitcase closes, and Remus’s eyes close, too. He can’t watch this; he can’t.

He hears—or, rather, he feels—Sirius step cautiously towards him. In his mind, he sees Sirius lean in to kiss him one last time—indeed, he feels warm breath ghost briefly across his mouth—before thinking better of it and pulling away again.

“I’m more than this, Moony,” Sirius tells him, but Remus is only half listening. “I can be more than this.”

Maybe Remus thinks, I know you can. Maybe he thinks, Stay anyway. Please. But most likely, he thinks, But why would you want to?

He waits until he hears the door of the apartment close to cry. He sits in the divot Sirius’s luggage left in the duvet, and he buries his face in his hands.

It’s only when he has no tears left in him—none at all—that he leans over and turns on the lamp on his bedside table. The letter crinkles when he picks it up.

I’m sorry, Remus, he reads. I’m sorry for your sake.

But I’m not sorry for mine. This is what I want. This is what I’ve always wanted. This is my dream. It has been for a long time—since even before I met you.

I’m going to Hollywood. I’m going to be famous. I know I can, because acting is all I’ve ever loved, and I’m good at it, too. This is me, Remus—smiling for the camera and making other people believe I’m in love.

Not that I didn’t love you, because I did. I loved you more than I thought it was possible to love a person. You weren’t everything, not by far, but you were enough.

I can do this.

Wish me luck.

The rest of the paper is blank.

Remus stands up. He walks to the window. He stares out at the street, and he knows that barely an hour ago Sirius was standing on that very curb and hailing a taxi and pretending it was a limousine.

The silence is unbearable, so he reaches towards the radio. Three stations of nothing but static go by before the accordion music swells and Billy Joel’s voice rings out through the room.

“He says, ‘Bill, I believe this is killing me,

“As a smile ran away from his face.

“‘Well, I’m sure that I could be a movie star

“If I could get out of this place.”

The irony—not irony, really, Remus knows, but coincidence doesn’t sound nearly as poetic in his head, not by far—is like a knife to the gut. He thinks, sadly, even though it hurts, about the diamond ring that’s collecting dust in his dresser drawer.

He loved Sirius for almost nine years, and he’ll love him for a thousand more.

And for what?

Wish me luck.

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #as close to a songfic as I'll ever get #piano man - billy joel #angst #angsty angsty angst #cw food mention #cw alcohol mention #PAIN

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rvmmm21 · 3 years

Text

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 04.

[5:45 p.m.] Washed-out rays of sunshine flood the arcade cafe, and Seungwan can’t contain her flourishing smile at the thought of Bae Joohyun visiting her at work.

. . . . .

Sometimes I wish I could go and live in the clouds of your fantasies.

Being a part-time barista is a safe-haven for all of hers.

The junior buzzes around behind the counter, systematically preparing orders of cakes and coffees on the tiny overhead order slips. A satisfied hum sounds as she finishes prettying the dessert display and slides the glass window closed.

Cake display, check.

Watermelon lychee-mint crush, coming up.

She dries her hands after spooning the frozen watermelon chunks into the blender, and the crinkle of her leather apron sounds brand new for some reason. Perhaps it’s because she feels brand new. Either way, her customers seem to pick up on her good mood too, and it blows her usually gruelling shift by like a light summer breeze. The hustle of work-pressed university students scrambling for their sugar rushes and extra shots of caffeine dulls in her ears, the memory of the past three weeks sitting at the very forefront of her thoughts.

The past three weeks of back and forth texting, weekly study dates and a volantly climbing heart rate– wait no, a steadily building friendship.

About halfway through the afternoon, the regular tempo of her shift suddenly interrupts with a swish of silky hair and an award winning smile.

“Wow, a barista. Cute and talented, I see. Where do I sign up?”

Seungwan adjusts the straps on her apron, blinking. “Taeyeon sunbaenim?”

“Kidding, kidding,” the girl laughs, holding her hand out as if that would somehow quell the bout of unease that had begun to well in the pit of Seungwan’s stomach.

Remaining professional, she answers with a nervous laugh of her own. “What can I get for you today, sunbaenim?”

Taeyeon hums, tapping a delicate finger to her chin while she stares down at the fancy little menu. A vague smirk graces pink lips as her fingertip traces the bold laminated print. “Hm, what do your pancakes come with?”

Seungwan leans over the cash register to glaze over the small description underneath and then snaps back up, knowing the ingredients by heart already. “Oh! They’re plain buttermilk, but you can choose your topping! Uh… strawberries and ice cream is– it’s a customer favourite, if you’d like.”

A hum of deliberation. “I see. And do I get special service?”

“S-Sorry?” The suggestion in her tone chokes the girl, unsure of what that means.

Taeyeon gracefully giggles and leans over the counter to playfully tap Seungwan on the shoulder. “Yah, you’re too funny. I meant an extra scoop of ice cream. Since we know each other, obviously. Why, what were you thinking?”

“Ah! Of course I can do that for you,” she chuckles awkwardly, keying in the order. Seungwan’s fingers flinch around the Amex Black Card when it doesn’t slip out of Taeyeon’s as easily. Chestnut eyes peek up at her, and from the casual smirk on her face, the older girl seems to know what she’s doing.

“Oh yeah,” her expression contorts as though she’s trying to recall why she’s now holding up a small queue of foot-tapping, huffing customers. “How’s your project going?”

She answers hastily, eyeing the holdup. “It’s great! Joohyun unnie is really helping me with this class.”

Taeyeon raises a brow. “Unnie?”

“Y-Yeah, Joohyun unnie’s great, can– can I take your card, please?” she reiterates.

“Ah,” the other girl finally nods in realisation, “you two are close friends now. That’s great! I’m glad to hear it’s going well.” The grip on the credit card slackens. “Thank you, Seungwan.”

Seungwan purses her lips, stiffly rocking on her heels as they both wait for the card reader to go ‘beep’. Once Taeyeon walks away, her tension dispels with a heavy sigh and she signals for the next customer.

Softy’s Autumn Morning comes on the set playlist shuffle. Pleasant lo-fi beats ripple through the cafe and Seungwan gently bops along as she works, carefully eyeing the bubbling pancake mix to make sure it doesn’t burn.

Time seems to slow to a glacial pace. That is, until the little bronze bell chimes and a certain someone walks in. Seungwan recognises that vintage Balenciaga Defile Sport hoodie in a heartbeat. Her legs kick into gear and she rushes over to meet her. Joohyun approaches the counter with her signature gaze of boredom, but hides a laugh behind her sweater paw when she sees the barista almost trip over her own sneakers.

Five minutes later, said barista is hunched over a small cup of latte, hands steadily crafting two pointy milk ears with the help of a toothpick.

As she pops a little bonus on the saucer in replacement of their standard Lotus Biscoff biscuit, Seungwan wonders where Sooyoung and Jennie are, melting a little at how Joohyun looks so small and harmless without the final duo to complete her killer posse. God, when they're all three together, it gets really hard to not believe she'sthe precious daughter of South Korea's most elusive mafia boss. The rumours have to come from somewhere, right? She takes a deep breath to steel her nerves before serving the mafia daughter sitting by the window.

“Enjoy your coffee, unnie!” she chirps, setting the steaming drink down. Service with a complimentary home baked cookie is her way of saying ‘I think you’re super cool’.

Totally embarrassed at her dumb little gift, the girl slinks back to her station with sizzling ears before her senior can even thank her.

How cute.

Joohyun’s lips curl into a secret smile at the milk foam cat happily greeting her from her latte.

. . . . .

[7:45 p.m.] Seulgi whines when she goes to get a Cola from the fridge and finds the door wide open with Yerim chugging milk straight from the carton. Her roommate calmly caps the lid, dutifully ignoring her.

. . . . .

Polystyrene containers of spicy tteokbokki, salmon sashimi, crispy pork mandu as well as skewers of various glazed meats glisten deliciously under warm living room lights. It’s the perfect go-to cheat day feast.

“Unnie, you’re like those tragic lovers in my dramas,” the youngest blurts, chewing on her Yakult straw. “Literally every one of them. Too dumb to confess and then drowns in their tears at night. You gonna break the cycle or what?”

Shock seizes Seungwan’s expression before she shakes her head at the way this heartless dongsaeng just takes her feelings and tosses them around like a salad. Still, she thinks, there’s no harm in being honest.

“What’s there to confess? We’re just friends."

Seulgi and Yerim exchange a silent look at the neat pile of tteokbokki on Seungwan’s plate. They remembered only a month ago, their friend seemed to have eyes for nothing else. The dish was so tasty she could marry it, apparently. But its charms seem to have worn off; now overshadowed by Joohyun’s endearingly obnoxious laughter and just about everything about her.

"Plus, you know, I doubt Joohyun unnie sees me that way either."

An epiphany strikes Yerim and she slaps her hand on the table, jabbing a restless finger at her shocked dorm mates. “Zenitsu, Zenitsu! Unnie, you’re Zenitsu, I’ve freaking figured it out.”

Confusion colours Seungwan’s face. “Zenits… who?”

“Zenitsu from Demon Slayer.”

“What?”

“That mopey kid.”

“Yerim-ah…”

“Demon Slayer. Yerimie’s bingeing it right now. Anime on Netflix or something,” Seulgi explains through a mouthful of dumpling, “she won’t shut up about it. God help us there’s a movie out already.”

Curiosity soon has the confused girl peering at her screen, determined to find out what she’s being called. Thank god for YouTube.

The youngest feels the heat as she watches her unnie’s expression become more and more deadpan with every passing video.

“Yerim. What, exactly, do you see of me in this?” Seungwan threateningly questions, holding up a paused clip of a cartoon boy grovelling at the feet of a pretty girl. She wonders if it’s wrong to want Joohyun to actually have mafia connections now… and if she’d be willing to share them with her for… purposes.

She shrugs defensively. “What? Don’t you think he’s cute?”

"Don't worry Wan, I don't see it either," Seulgi jumps in.

‘Cute’ isn’t quite the term. The blonde nonchalantly brings the chopsticks to her mouth and bites down… onto thin air. Much to the amusement of the two across her. “Hey how’s it going with Sooyoung?” she turns her attention to the girl sitting cross-legged opposite.

Seulgi tuts in reply, dangling a salmon slice in front of her unimpressed roomie. “Stop trying to change the subject, Wan. It’s sooo obvious.” After a pregnant pause, she grins like a kid on Christmas morning, spilling her own adventures with her third of the black velvet trio in one breath. “But thank you for asking because we’re going to the cinema this weekend.”

Yerim chopsticks another tteokbokki onto her plate. “Ooh, what movie?”

“Oh, uh…” Seulgi shrugs, “dunno… I think Sooyoung knows more about what’s good, so I’ll–”

“You’re gonna let her decide, is what I’m hearing,” the maknae scoffs with an eye roll.

Seungwan smiles.

“Simps… simps! Help, someone save me, you guys are everywhere!” Yerim pretends to drown on land and her friends resist the urge to jump her on the spot.

. . . . .

[11:09 a.m.] The raven-haired senior catches her unsuspecting junior on her way through campus gardens the next morning and pries her for answers.

. . . . .

“Why a cat?”

Seungwan’s eyes form joyous crescent moons. “Unnie!”

Suddenly, she has to keep her focus from dwindling into how good they’d both look sitting under the shade of that big old oak tree.

Somewhere through the cottoned clouds of her daydreams, they’re on one of their many picnics. Doughnuts, corn-dogs, toasted sandwiches and bottled juice litter the peach gingham mat they’re sitting on, and Joohyun offers her a corner of her Gilgeori toast. Of course, she cheekily tries her luck, leaving her with just the corner instead. She yelps when Joohyun gives her a shoulder thwack well deserved.

Clumsy knees knock together as they laugh themselves silly, the powdered sugar on their lips melting into a sweet river every time she connects them with a kiss.

Seungwan bites her lip, wringing her mind of those thoughts, trying to play down the elation at hearing her senior’s curiosity. “A cat? I-I don’t know, I just think they’re funny and– kinda cute.” Her voice goes squeaky with excitement. “You liked it? Unnie! You should order more coffees with milk in them. I’ll draw you a bunny next time!”

Joohyun nods, willing to buy the cafe’s entire stock if it meant she got to see Seungwan beam like a praised puppy, all too eager to learn its next trick.

And she might’ve just marched down there right now to do as she’d said… if they weren’t ten minutes late for their class. Suddenly they’re both panickedly clutching at each other, torn between sprinting like they’re being chased by hyenas, turning up fashionably late, or hopping around and freaking out about the fact that they’re already eleven minutes late, now.

Joohyun’s wrist is grabbed just as she’s about to suggest the fashionably late option. Then she’s hurtling forward, struggling to keep her books from falling whilst poorly protesting the early-morning PE session. But Seungwan is too busy shouting nonsense into the skies about how this is the final chance the lightning gods get to strike her down and charge her up.

Which would’ve been convincing had her voice not cracked on every other word.

As the pair clumsily sprint down the path of pastel flower bushes, the older girl can’t remember the last time she’s laughed this freely. She can barely get the words out but she feels like she’d explode if she didn’t.

“Seungwan-ah! You’re giving me a six pack!”

And when Seungwan turns back to laugh with her, something in Joohyun’s static heart ignites.

. . . . .

In the diamond, star-dappled sky, Cherub wakes from his silken cloud. Lily-white wings unfurl at the latest calling.

#red velvet #wenrene #wendy #irene #university au #seulgi #joy #yeri #joygi #a budding relationship #i mean friendship

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gongju-juice · 4 years

Text

GOT7 as Types of Yandere

Warnings: Yandere stuff duh

Jaebum

-Belongs as the leader of a street gang

-You are the daughter of a popular politician

-First saw you at a campaign party where your father and your family made an appearance

-Decided right then the greatest heist he could ever pull is stealing you from your father

-Tried to be “peaceful” about it at first by attempting to get your number over a round of drinks

-You recognized his face from the national news and kindly told him to fuck off

-In retaliation, he fired into the air and got everyone’s attention

-He told them that you were his mistress

-Of course, you tried to plead for your innocence. Nobody believed you.

-He ripped you from the scene and threw you in his black and silver helicopter that waited for him on the rooftop of the skyscraper

-Has a corruption kink

-Wants to tattoo his name across your body but he’s not sure if that’ll mess up the view of your pretty skin or not.

-Threatens to kill your family members/friends when you misbehave

-Has goons and guards that follow you around and know your every move

Mark

-Is your average college kid doing parkour and failing exams

-First saw you walking from your class one lazy morning, books tucked under your arm

-Followed you around campus, quiet as a mouse. Memorized your weekly schedule so that he knew what time you went to school, when you went to work, and when you finally got home in the evenings

-Would break into your apartment on the days he couldn’t see you so he could catch your scent

-You finally caught him as you came home one night after you came home from work.

-He was sitting there, arms crossed, as you walked in the room. You tried to run for the door, you tried to use your phone—but the door wouldn’t open and your phone wouldn’t turn on.

-Turns out, he is a master hacker in disguise. He had programmed your entire apartment to respond to his command: all at the touch of his watch.

-Would never hurt you but constantly punches his fists against the wall until his knuckles are dripping in blood

-Is actually pretty chill unless you try to leave him. He can see everywhere you go and anything you do. You cannot escape him.

Jackson

-Is a hot celebrity icon who everyone adores and can’t take seriously

-First saw you at his fan meet. You actually were one of his fans.

-He had his company staff take you backstage and tie you up in ropes and duct tape. The next thing you knew, you were hurtling down China’s busiest interstate in black SUV.

-Finds you so cute and adorable. Can’t ever keep his hands off you. He must have you. You had to be his woman.

-Will actually bring you out in public with him. But if you try to call him out or escape, he’ll make you seem crazy, thus garnering support—quite the opposite effect you’d hope for.

-Hates when you misbehave because he feels that as the “daddy,” he must discipline you harshly. Says that it pains him immensely and will even punish himself because he feels he didn’t do his job well in training you.

-Wants to get you pregnant soooo bad. He thinks if he can give you a child, you will finally accept him.

-Has sudden mood switches where one moment he is the giddy, normal Jackson, and the next moment he is an unstable demon. In these moments, it’s best to do exactly what he says and prepare for a long night.

Jinyoung

-Is the successful son of the top prosecutor in Seoul—is a lawyer and a part-time detective

-Is also beloved by the public, government, and the general crowds

-Solves brutal murders, class-one robberies, and puts high-profile criminals in jail just about everyday

-Has connections to literally every person in power in South Korea and Asia in general

-First saw you when doing detective work at a bar down in Gangnam

He decided then that he needed you—he could take out all his frustration on you. After all, seeing all the gore and sin that he did was bound to get to him.

-He believes it is his right to own you.

-Reported you missing and launched an “investigation”

-”Concluded” you’d committed suicide by jumping into the Han River—even produced a body that looked just like you

-You once escaped from his luxurious penthouse and ran to the police station.

-When you got there, the police made you wait in the back. You thought they were protecting you. Fifteen minutes later, Park Jinyoung himself showed up to collect his precious jagiya. The authorities are in on it too.

-Basically made you completely disappear from the world

-Would not hesitate to slap you and show you his authority if you disrespect him

BamBam

-Is a Thai Prince. He is second-line to the throne after his sickly older brother.

-Nobody questions his authority which is why he is quite spoiled and can do whatever he wants

-First saw you at his birthday party. Despite all of the gold and designer clothes waiting to be open on the present table, he wanted you.

-His servants drug you off to his royal chamber where you were pampered beyond degree.

-If a man looks at you, they will be killed mercilessly (if he has not given them permission to look at you first)

-Dresses you up in the finest silks, fabrics, and jewelry. You are his doll to spoil, and your clothes must match his to show that he owns you.

-Got rid of his harem because you are the only one he desires

-You once tried to argue for your freedom one day at the Supreme Court. Turns out there is a law that allows the royal family to kidnap and keep anyone they please to their own disposal.

-Likes to fuck you while diamond necklaces hang from your neck.

Yugyeom

-Was an emotionally unstable patient at a psychiatric hospital.

-You were his Psychiatrist and primary physician.

-He fell in love with you because of your maternal-like personality and gestures of kindness.

-He crafted a master plan in order to snatch you away from the hospital and keep you hidden away in an abandoned mansion

-Threatens to kill himself anytime you try to escape or misbehave

-You are his noona (even if he is older than you lol)

-Is schizophrenic and sees you doing things when nothing has actually even happened.

-Refuses to take his medication if he thinks you are being dishonest with him. Is eternally paranoid that you will leave him one day so he literally never leaves your side.

-Is very sweet when he’s not currently experiencing a crisis. Will bring you flowers or make you cake.

-Expects you to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner and feed him like a child.

-Has manipulated you so far by threatening you with double suicide if you don’t comply.

Youngjae

-Actually seemed pretty normal and harmless at first. That was your first mistake.

-He has the worst temper and is the most obsessive man under the guise of those cute cheeks.

-Will straight up lock you in his apartment for weeks on end when he gets “probable cause”

-You used to walk his dogs when he went out for work in the daytime.

-He asked you out on a date, and for three months, you were the happiest couple.

-Then the switch came. You stared at the waiter too long at his favorite restaurant, and he lost it.

-You didn’t leave his bedroom until a week later.

-He calls your dogs your “kids” and will manipulate you into thinking the dogs are really against you. . .

-And they are. He has trained Coco to bark non-stop if you get within ten feet of the door.

-Has shattered your phone on multiple occasions and gets furious if you get any messages while he is next to you

-Sometimes forgets how cruel he really is. Doesn’t remember punishing you for weeks on end. It’s like his mind completely wipes the bad memories from his mind.

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rfjofficial · 3 years

Text

Rafael Femenias Junior: Character Development (4/?)

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name: Rafael Femenias Junior Nickname: Raf, Junior Birthdate: August 7th, 1990 Age: 30 Zodiac: Leo Gender: Cisgender Male Pronouns: He/Him Romantic orientation: Biromantic (Recent development) Sexual orientation: Bisexual (Recent development) Nationality: English/Mexican (From his mother’s side) Ethnicity: Spanish, Mexican, Puerto Rican Ranking: Seraphim/Interim Horseman Affiliation: Famine

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace: London, England Hometown: London, England Social Class: Upper Educational achievements: BA in Economics and Management from Oxford (incidentally enough, Rafael managed to finish his degree by his own merit - even with barely passing grades) Father: Rafael Femenias Senior Mother: Alessandra Femenias Sibling(s): Alejandro Femenias (Deceased) Pets: His five-year-old dog, Alex Previous relationships: If I listed each of Rafael’s romantic entanglements, I’d be here all night. Playboy extraordinaire has balanced many girlfriends throughout the years, as well as flings. Notable exes include his most serious girlfriend to date, Juno Warden (although University) and a romance with Kyung-Soon Arrests: Three arrests, dropped within five minutes of his father making a phone call. All for public indecency (of the ‘having sex in public areas’ variety) Prison time: N/A

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation: COO of Femenias Energy, Interim Horseman for Famine Dream occupation: Does running away from responsibility count? Past job(s): Hah. Spending habits: Terrible with his finances, it’s fortunate that he’s so obscenely rich it doesn’t matter In debt?: No

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: Average Speed: Above average Intelligence: Below Average (or so he thinks) Accuracy: Average Agility: Above Average Stamina: Average Teamwork: Surprisingly great team worker, provided that the project interests him Talents: A songbird - fantastic vocal range that he’s tuned over the years, charisma and extroversion Shortcomings: Reckless, easily bored, and deeply insecure Languages spoken: English, Spanish, French, and Japanese Drive?: Yes Jump-start a car?: No Change a flat tyre?: No - he has people for that Ride a bicycle?: Yes Swim?: Yes Play an instrument?: Yes - Rafael has a very impressive collection of vintage guitars, and has played for eighteen years now Play chess?: Yes - Terrible player, though Braid hair?: Yes, for both Jessica and Kitty (as well as his own when he tried the long hair vibe in his pre-teen years) Tie a tie?: Yes Pick a lock?: Yes - likely learned from Thomas so that he could break into his Papa’s tequila collection Cook?: No

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim: Diego Boneta Eye colour: Hazel Eyes (Predominantly brown) Hair colour: Light brown Hair type: Curly Glasses/contacts?: Reading glasses, used sporadically due to his vanity Dominant hand: Right Height: 5″8 Weight: 152 Pounds Build: Lean, with well-defined abs (one of the few things Rafael works hard at. You can blame his vanity for this one) Exercise habits: Plays soccer once a week, works on his abdominal muscles and general weight lifting 2x a week. And also, of course, sexual activity of any kind to get his cardio in. Listen, Raf’s a very active guy, okay??? Skin tone: Olive skin Tattoos: N/A Piercings: N/A Marks/scars: A faint scar along his knee, from his early days as a Power Clothing style: Fashion-forward and reeking of privilege. The kind of man that wears a white T-shirt underneath a twenty thousand pound, bespoke Italian suit Jewellery: Currently wearing his father’s Horseman ring on his right pinky, gold chain with a cross around his neck, and one of his Swiss watches on his wrist Allergies: Peanuts Diet: Eats just about anything, but tries to keep it lean

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type: The Turbulent Entrepreneur, ESTP-T Enneagram type: Type 7 - The Enthusiast Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good Temperament: Emotional Element: Fire Emotional stability: Prone to recklessness and rash decision making, rooted in insecurity Introvert or Extrovert?: Extrovert Drug use: Everything under the sun, currently trying out sobriety Alcohol use: Frequent, though some attempt at cutting back Prone to violence?: Only when provoked, or when it seems like a good idea Prone to crying?: When the situation demands it, but he’s not above shedding a tear Believe in love at first sight?: Not necessarily, but Rafael does believe in energy and intuition. It’s allowed him to decide on people fairly quickly. Within 5 minutes of meeting Ikki, he was sure he’d be his best friend.

MANNERISMS.

Accent: English accent, with many Spanish inflections as his mother primarily spoke Spanish Hobbies: Music, sports, partying, and anything adrenaline-inducing. Rafael’s last adventure was an illegal car race in Tokyo last year Habits: Sleeping in, feeding Ikki’s birds donuts without his knowledge, manwhoring Nervous ticks: Refusal to make eye contact, drumming his fingers Drives/motivations: Protecting his family and, maybe, proving everyone wrong about his abilities Fears: Everyone else proving him right about his inability to lead Sense of humour?: Generally a good sense of humor, a little on the nose and crude Do they curse often?: Occasionally

FAVOURITES.

Animal: Lions Beverage: Tequila (after his father) or scotch Book: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald Colour: Red Food: Rafael enjoys a wide range of foods. He is partial to either a traditional Spanish or Japanese breakfast, though Flower: Sunflowers (his mother’s favorite - he used to purchase the majority of them at Zach’s father’s flower shop) Gem: Diamonds Mode of transportation: Either his red Lamborghini, or black Ferrari Scent: Anything minimalist and subtle Sport: Soccer Weather: Warm Vacation destination: Mexico or Spain

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream: Being at peace with whoever it is, he’s destined to be Greatest fear: Running out of time to figure it out Most at ease when: Surrounded by his loved ones Least as ease when: Confined to tight spaces, and forced to take things seriously Biggest achievement: Not an achievement, but if you ask him, it’s having the family he has, the way he has them Biggest regret: Spending so long fearing his future; Every time he misses a weekly visit to his mother (he’s only really missed a handful in as many as 14 years, but he regrets it each time)

ADDITIONAL.

Here you can add any additional stats that we might have missed!

#muse: rafael #( i can still hear them saying we will never break the chain | rafael)#tw: drug mention

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iheartsunset · 4 years

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Papa Louie Rita Headcanons

(The OG waifu, let’s goooo)

-Margarita Jimenez, referred to by many as Rita, is a 31 year old businesswoman and Burgeria chef. She is currently the CEO of the popular drink and snack company, Love Lindo, a feat that has gained her recognition across the continent. Even though she is considerably wealthy and influential, she still enjoys working part time at the Burgeria and organizing charitable events for it. Rita is also the older cousin of dancer Cecilia Recinos, the fiancée of guitarist Marty Diamond, and the eldest niece of philanthropist Georgito Jimenez. Rita is usually seen walking alongside Janana and the Shakers or hanging out with her best friend, Rollie.

-Rita, around her family and coworkers, appears to be emotionally stunted and a strict perfectionist. She has trouble showing her empathy and true feelings then, but she noticeably opens up around the people she appreciates. While she is mostly monotone in most situations, she is able to use her quick wit to get her friends out of trouble. She has a much shorter temper around her family and is prone to physical fights. The only three people she completely opens up to are Cecilia, Marty, and Rollie, where she drops her emotionless demeanor and becomes cheerful. She enjoys gossiping in Spanish with Rollie, and she usually insults people out loud in Spanish. Rita also drops random statistics facts and can do most math in her head, which is very scary.

-Unlike Cecilia, who was raised in a loving home with supportive parents, Rita grew up under extremely strict professors who pushed their near impossible academic views into her. Rita was hardly allowed to go out or do non-academic extracurriculars and was punished often for her love of rock music and movies. The only thing they let her do without supervision was buy groceries, where she would secretly use the change to rent movies and watch them after her parents fell asleep. Rita graduated top of her class from a good college and even became a successful CEO, but even she herself agrees that her parents were awful. This treatment still affected her today, where she’s mostly antisocial and pushes herself too hard. Luckily, her parents hardly ever attend uncle Georgito’s weekly family dinner. Her parents also don’t approve of Marty since he’s a guitar player, they even think he’s a better match for Cecilia.

-Rita can charm anybody, even hardasses like Hank, Quinn, and Guy Mortadello. She has a way with words and can get you to do anything. She once convinced Pitch Hitwell to do sign a Purple Burple advertising contract after he had sworn off of all sugar. She had also convinced Papa to open up an arcade as well as invest in delivery drones. Papa trusts her and Quinn to help him make business decisions. Rita herself cannot be charmed by anybody except Marty, who wooed her by buying her a margarita and being a nice person to her. She’ll do anything he says, except for burn down Oniontown’s statue.

-She doesn’t prefer any genre of movie, she just buys multiple tickets to watch all the latest box office hits. She’s also an avid watcher of the Academy Awards and the Oscars and wishes she could be a host someday. She feels emotions along with the characters, such as crying during Titanic, feeling scared during Nightmare on Elm Street, and passing out from fear and disgust during Tale of the Rose Maiden. Thanks Kenton and Kaleb for making that monstrosity of a film.

-She drives a very expensive Audi R8 to establish her dominance. It works, too, everyone who has ridden in it has cried because it is so beautiful and smooth riding. Her and Rollie are mostly seen singing along to Selena in it while driving through Tastyville. Clover is banned from being in it because she gets carsick real easily. Even though Rita has such a nice car, she likes riding in Marty’s truck and picking up everybody for work.

-She usually wears gloves to hide her scarred knuckles, as does Cecilia since they got into a bunch of fistfights before.

-Rita had a punk phase in high school and still has a love for heavy metal and classic rock music. She can even play the electric guitar and sing, something that she used to impress the other shakers. She actually met Marty at a bar’s karaoke night before he auditioned for Flipline’s Got Talent and they sang MCR together. They proceeded to get drunk, watch Guardians of the Galaxy, and buy a dog together, which they have since named Romance. It’s a very strange meet-cute indeed.

-She has a normal relationship with Cecilia now since they made up, which was after Cecilia lost the dance competition. Rita drove over to her apartment to comfort and encourage her, which led to them finally getting along. She also gets along well with Georgito and Cecilia’s parents, who treat her with respect instead of belittlement. Doan also made her a popcorn necklace to get to know her better since he started dating Cecilia, and she wears it every day.

-Rita teaches all the teenage workers how to drive and tutors them in many subjects.

-Out of all the workers, Papa and Roy are scared of her the most since you trust her, but you know she has the capacity to ruin your life with just the right words.

-Rita...the OG queen before I even realized Prudence existed. Such an amazing woman I Stan, and you should too. I hated Burgeria though, I was never any good at it, I just played it for Rita.

#flipline studios #papa louie #flipline #my hcs #rita #sorry if this is formatted weird im on mobile #if you hate Rita leave me alone #I had to google what an Audi was cause I suck at cars #like I can’t tell the difference between a Lexus and a Chevy

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spacesnail3000 · 5 years

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Brooklyn’s Sweetheart Chapter 2: Diamonds Are Forever, Those Boys Ain’t

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Chapter Summary: They say diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but can diamonds keep her company all summer at Martha’s Vineyard? She didn’t think so.

Word Count: 4,336

Warnings: Language, drinking, eventual smut

Masterlist / AO3

The next morning, Y/N sat at the kitchen table, eating the Eggs Benedict their chef, Rita, had made, when her father walked in.

Obadiah sat down at the kitchen table and stared at his daughter. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Daddy,” she greeted him, her voice light.

“What do you want?”

It was his way of apologizing for the night before. They’d been through this enough times that it was now a routine.

When he yelled at her during her celebratory end-of-eighth-grade-sleepover, she got a brand-new MacBook out of it. When he screamed at her homecoming date in sophomore year, he gave her a St. Bernard puppy. When he cursed out her coach at her state qualifiers swim meet the year before, he bought her a white gold and diamond tennis bracelet.

She wore the bracelet now, and the dog, a Sweet Good Boy named Hermes, sat at her feet, looking warily up at her father. Hermes and Obadiah had quite the hateful relationship.

Hermes was just a good judge of character.

“I want Steve and Bucky to come with me this summer.”

She had thought about it all last night, knowing her father would come to her this morning with a peace offering—more like a way of buying her forgiveness. And she knew what she wanted, which was to spend the summer with her two closest friends since childhood.

Every summer, her father sent her off to their vacation houses. The cabin in the Adirondacks, the beach house in the Hamptons, the cottage at Martha’s Vineyard. Each time, she was accompanied by a small entourage—people to keep her safe and to keep her from being bored, because of course her parents weren’t about to spend the entire summer with their daughter.

Steve and Bucky had gone with her on several of these trips but had made no plans to be with her for this summer, which was outrageous to her because they were the perfect pair to keep her both safe and entertained.

She was headed to the cottage in a week and she wanted her favorite boys to be there, no matter if one was not speaking to her and the other had forced a very interesting kiss on her the night before.

So maybe the kiss she shared with Bucky had prompted this whole idea, but she sure as hell couldn’t ask her father for only Bucky to come. That would be suspicious. And she did miss Steve, so she hoped this would give her the chance to smooth things over with him.

Even if he was a big dumb blond hunk of meat.

“That’s all you want?” her father asked suspiciously, expecting the other shoe to drop.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Really?” he stole a piece of toast from her plate, and she glared at him. As he chewed, he said, “You know, diamonds are forever, those boys ain’t.”

Simpering, she quipped, “Whoever said diamonds are a girl’s best friend hasn’t met Steve and Bucky.” Then, “A new Balenciaga bag would sweeten the deal. But mostly I just want them with me for the whole summer.”

“Sure thing, sweetie, whatever you want.”

As their weekly mob meeting later that night finished up, Obadiah broke the news to Steve and Bucky. It worked out well for Obadiah. He hadn’t known who he was going to send with his daughter to protect her until she made the decision for him. Stark had taken an interest in the Rogers kid for some reason, had big plans for him over the summer, but he had managed to talk Stark into letting him go at least for a little while.

“You two will be accompanying Y/N this summer,” Obadiah said with an air of finality, “Your job is to keep her safe and happy.”

That had always been their job. To anybody remotely concerned, that was Bucky’s and Steve’s sole purpose for being alive.

They hadn’t been doing that good of a job of it for the last few months—at least not the “keeping her happy” part.

The boys didn’t argue—not to Obadiah’s face. They didn’t have a death wish.

“You’re leaving in a week for Martha’s Vineyard.”

Tony sent them a look that told them he approved of this and they had no choice in the matter, before he exited behind Obadiah.

Sam waggled his eyebrows at them. “Make sure to pack your swim trunks, boys. Oh, and you’ll have to find a guard-dog-friendly beach. Pets allowed, and all that.” He snickered as Bucky flipped him off before he exited the room.

As the last two in the meeting room, Bucky and Steve looked at each other. Bucky’s gaze was pleading—Steve had barely spoken to him the entire day, and when he had, it had been clipped statements that simmered with an angry undertone. Steve’s gaze now was even angrier.

“What the fuck, Bucky?”

That was all Steve said before leaving.

Bucky had no idea why Steve was so mad—aside from the obvious fact that he kissed Y/N. Even then, Bucky thought it was hypocritical of Steve to be mad over such a thing considering he had also kissed Y/N last year. Bucky had told Steve as much earlier, and Steve only responded by getting even angrier.

Bucky made his way into the kitchen, where everyone was gathered for the big family dinner they always had every Sunday, right after the official weekly meeting. Tonight, Tony’s chefs had prepared a variety of Indian cuisine for them.

He spotted Y/N on the other side of the kitchen. She had just come in from the backyard with Peter Parker, Tony’s boy, and she was barefoot. Bucky started to make his way over to her but Steve got there before he did. Peter scurried away when Steve made eye contact with him.

“So,” Steve said, sidling up to her right by the kitchen table, effectively trapping her between him and the table. “Martha’s Vineyard, huh?” His voice was hard, slightly annoyed.

She looked up at him with that sweet smile. Her lips were glossy with lip balm and she smelled like the sun. “Yeah, I thought it would be fun. Are you excited?”

He sighed her name, exasperated.

“Hey,” she said before he could say anything else, “I’m wearing the necklace you got me. Thank you, it’s perfect. I love it.” She hooked her thumb around the chain and showed him the gift he got for her birthday. It was a silver locket, an engraving of the sun on the front.

His eyes softened when he saw that, and he smiled at her genuinely for the first time in a year. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m not sure what pictures I should put in it, yet,” she said, fingers opening and closing the latch of the locket with a little snap. “Maybe we’ll take some good photos at Martha’s Vineyard.”

He hesitated before asking, “Why did you want us there this summer?”

“I miss you guys,” she answered earnestly. “You never spend time with me anymore. And next semester, I’ll probably be at NYU, maybe. And then I’ll never be around and I’ll never see either of you.”

“Sweetheart—”

“I just want one summer with you guys. Is that too much to ask for?” Her puppy dog eyes hit him in just the right spot.

“No,” he sighed, giving her a small smile, “No, it’s not too much… It’ll be fun. We’re excited.”

Y/N parted from him then, squeezing past him to make her way into the living room to talk to Wanda and Pietro Maximoff before dinner started.

Bucky came over to Steve and Steve sighed. “I couldn’t stay mad at her.”

“You don’t really have a reason to be mad at her,” Bucky pointed out, “Not really.”

“I know…” he turned to Bucky, eyeing him. “Do I have a reason to be mad at you, Buck?”

Bucky shrugged. “I told you, the kiss was an accident. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah… Okay… Sorry for bein’ an ass.”

“S’okay,” Bucky clapped him on the back. “I’m used to it by now.”

Steve laughed and punched at Bucky’s shoulder, and then dinner was called.

A week later, Steve and Bucky were packing their suitcases into the SUV for them to get ready to go on the six-hour trip to Martha’s Vineyard. They had gotten a late start and probably wouldn’t be there until it was dark.

Steve drove and Bucky rode shotgun, dictating the music the entire drive—much to Steve’s and Y/N’s chagrin. She sat in the back with Hermes and chattered with them both about nothing for the first half of the drive.

They were already behind schedule, and it was only made worse when Bucky and Y/N demanded they stop for a bathroom break about three times each—Steve was seething by the last time. He calmed down when she came back from the gas station convenience store with a bag of M&M’s for him—his favorite candy.

They had stopped for a late lunch at a pizza place in Boston—and had gone 40 minutes out of their way for it. Between the three of them, they had devoured three pizzas and a whole basket of garlic knots. It had sent Y/N into a food-induced stupor. By the time they were pulling up to the Stanes’ cottage, she was fast asleep, using the dog as a pillow.

He and Steve carried all the luggage in before they contemplated waking her up.

“Let her sleep,” Bucky said, “She’ll probably be out for the rest of the night.”

“I’ll carry her in,” Steve said as Hermes jumped out, “Can you get the dog?”

Bucky obliged. He let the dog go into the fenced-in backyard.

The cottage at Martha’s Vineyard wasn’t so much a cottage as a 6-bedroom converted-barn-turned-luxury-mansion overlooking the water, complete with a big fancy backyard and a pool and access to the beachside and a private dock. Bucky was always blown away every time they visited and this time was no different.

He stood in the backyard admiring the black waters while Hermes did his business.

“I set her on the couch,” Steve said, startling Bucky.

Bucky looked back to see Steve on the porch, taking a seat on the porch swing that faced the ocean. He walked over, taking a seat next to him. Their arms brushed together as they settled in.

“Here,” Steve said, handing him a bottle of whiskey. “They’ve got this place stocked with liquor but no food. We’ll have to make a grocery run tomorrow.”

Bucky grunted in response as he took a long drink. It had been a long day, and truthfully, all he could think of doing right now was going to bed. Instead, he stayed up with Steve, ready to relax on their vacation after the last stressful few months.

Tony had taken Steve under his wing, mentoring him into a more important place in the mob. It was the start of something big, Steve kept saying. Bucky was excited for his friend, if not a little jealous. But Steve deserved it, he knew; Steve was always the more determined of the two of them, always the more ruthless one.

So tonight, Bucky welcomed the respite. As they chatted and ribbed each other over the bottle of whiskey, it was like nothing had changed.

The conversation had turned to Steve and Peggy, and Steve was saying, “Yeah, Peg’s great, but I dunno. She doesn’t really get it.”

“Get what?” But Bucky had a feeling he knew what Steve was talking about. He took another swig of whiskey before passing the bottle to Steve.

“The mob, the life we live. She doesn’t know the half of it, and if she did… She wouldn’t stick with me through it.”

“You need someone who already knows our life, Stevie. Someone who understands.”

Steve was quiet for a moment before saying, “Someone like Y/N?”

Bucky stiffened. That hadn’t been what he was going for, but Y/N was on the back of his mind when he said it. She had been on his mind since last week. He laughed it off. “C’mon, Stevie, you think Stane would let you have her?”

“Stane’s been thinking of who to marry her off to,” Steve said after a long drink. “Only reason he’s letting her go to NYU is ‘cause he hasn’t had any good contenders yet.”

“And you think you’re gonna put in an offer?”

Steve scoffed. “No. I’m dating Peggy, Buck. C’mon.”

“But if you weren’t?”

Steve looked beside him to find Bucky already staring at him intently. They made eye contact, the air between them tense. Finally, Steve shrugged. “I’m not sure, Buck. Maybe I should be askin’ you the same thing.”

“Does it look like I’m ready to settle down and take a bride?” he asked, giving Steve and incredulous look. Steve laughed and looked down at his lap, shaking his head, doing that bashful thing even when Bucky knew he wasn’t bashful at all. “Besides, I wouldn’t do that to her.”

Steve knew what he meant. Tying her to the mob, for as long as they both shall live. Mob wives were much more involved than the children of the mob, and they both knew Y/N was too sweet and innocent for that.

Steve’s smile fell away and he nodded, thinking it over. “Yeah. I wouldn’t want to either.”

They had both had quite a bit of whiskey by now, and Bucky was feeling brave. “Tell me about when you kissed her, Stevie.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he looked at Bucky with a shocked expression. “You know about that?”

“Yeah, she told me the other night,” Bucky answered, taking the bottle from Steve as he was about to take a drink. “’Fess up, punk. Don’t avoid the question.”

He let out a long sigh, his shoulders drooping, hands braced on his knees. “Fine. But you can’t tell anyone.”

“Who the fuck would I tell?”

Steve swatted at his knee. “I don’t fucking know, just keep your mouth shut about it. Got it?” When Bucky nodded, Steve continued. “It was the end of last summer when we were all in Southampton. She snuck out with some of her friends to a party one night, and I caught her coming back late. I was just startin’ to lay into her about it when she started crying—and not her usual crying when she’s bein’ a brat, you know?”

Bucky knew. She got real teary eyed sometimes when they caught her doing something she shouldn’t have been, specifically when Steve started yelling at her. But usually she took his scolding with a stiff upper lip, unless he was being really unfair.

“She starts sobbing, and I can tell something’s really wrong. So I hug her and coddle her and eventually she tells me that some guys at the party were makin’ fun of her because she’s a virgin.” Steve clenched his jaw, remembering the way she blushed when she told him, the way she looked down and whispered it like she was ashamed of it. “And so I’m trying to tell her there’s nothing wrong with that, and she tells me she’s never even kissed anyone, and how is any guy ever gonna like her if she doesn’t even have any experience.”

“So you kissed her?” Bucky asked, remembering Y/N had said that he had offered.

Steve shook his head, laughing a little. “I don’t know what came over me. She was just so sad, and you know I have a soft spot for girls when they cry.”

Bucky knew very well about Steve’s weakness for people when they cried—not just girls. He and Steve had experimented in bed plenty of times and if there was one thing they had found out, it was that Steve loved it when Bucky cried. It really got him going for some reason.

“I wouldn’t call it a soft spot…” Bucky muttered, earning a punch on the arm. Steve still laughed about it good-naturedly.

“She was lookin’ up at me, all doe-eyed, and red, and sad. Kinda like how you used to look at me, Buck.”

Bucky looks at him, surprised, and memories of their times together flash through Bucky’s mind. They were each other’s firsts, stumbling their way through puberty and coming-of-age and the discovery of teenaged sexuality together. It wasn’t until after he experimented thoroughly with Steve in many different ways that he became the Lothario he is today. He feels his cheeks heat up at the images his brain conjures of them together in bed, touching and kissing, dry-humping each other until Bucky came in his pants.

“Yeah, like that,” Steve said, looking at him with a fond smile, something dark gleaming in his eyes. And truly, Steve thinks Bucky looks wonderful right now, all flushed and shocked and exactly like he did when Steve fucked him for the first time when they were 16.

So maybe Steve has a type for innocent young things who blush a lot. That’s why he was trying to stay away from Y/N. Maybe that’s why Steve had always felt like Peggy was wrong for him but staying with Peggy was such a great distraction for now.

“So I couldn’t help myself,” Steve shrugged. “I asked. I didn’t just force myself on her.” Part of Bucky feels sheepish at that, because that was exactly how he kissed her the night of her birthday, forcefully, predatorily. The other part remembers how nice it was every time Steve forced himself on Bucky in the heat of the moment. “I asked if she wanted me to kiss her just to see how it felt. And she said yes. So I kissed her.”

“Did you like it?” Bucky asked. He couldn’t help it.

The blush on Steve’s cheeks surprised Bucky. “Yeah, I guess I did. But don’t you ever tell anyone that.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. As if he would. “If you liked it, why’d you ignore her afterwards?”

“What? I didn’t!”

“Don’t bullshit me, Steve. You can’t bullshit me, I see right through you, pal.”

Steve looked down. The red hadn’t faded from his cheeks. “I dunno. I liked it too much, maybe. Stane would kill me if anything happened between us.”

Bucky got it, then. Steve liked it, and he needed to put distance between them to stop himself from taking things further.

“And then I found Peggy, and I just got too busy with Tony. So Y/N and I stopped talking as much.”

Bucky thought about this, but in his tipsiness, his dazed mind kept wandering back to how he kissed her. He kissed her like Steve used to kiss him, and he wondered if Steve kissed her the same way.

“How was it, Stevie?” he asked, a question that had been on his mind for a week now. “How was the kiss?”

Steve smirked knowingly. “Nothing like how I used to kiss you, that’s for sure.”

Bucky remembered their first few times together, sweet and tentative, innocent explorations. Steve had kissed him kindly then, but they had both quickly found out they liked it when Steve took charge. When Steve was rough with him, showed him no mercy.

But Bucky only liked it when Steve did that to him. None of the other men or women he had been with were the same in that regard. He only trusted Steve to take that power away from him, knowing Steve would never hurt him.

He supposed Steve liked the control aspect of it. As for Bucky, he needed that control whenever he was with anybody else.

“Guys?” they heard from the doorway after a brief silence. Hermes, who had been lying at their feet dozing, immediately got up and trotted over to where Y/N was standing, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Hey, sweetie,” Steve said, “You just wake up?”

She nodded and padded over to them, Hermes following her loyally. Her feet were bare and she was still wearing her clothes from earlier, leggings and an oversized sweatshirt with her high school’s mascot on the front. Bucky thought the sweatshirt had belonged to Steve once, or maybe him—or maybe both, he couldn’t recall.

She took a seat between them and slumped down onto Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m tired,” There was a little pout on her lips, puffy and sleep-swollen.

“Then go back to bed,” Bucky told her, draping his right arm around the back of the bench, letting her rest her head on his chest.

“Can’t fall back asleep.”

“Are you hungry?” Steve asked, ever the doting mother hen. “There’s not food in the kitchen, but maybe we could go pick something up.”

She shook her head. “I’m still full from the pizza.”

“Well, we’ll go for an early breakfast tomorrow,” Steve said, “Any place you want.”

“Okay, Stevie,” she said, smiling up at him sleepily.

Steve couldn’t help himself when he swung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to rest on his chest instead. She went willingly, cuddling into him. Bucky sent him a look, and Steve raised an eyebrow back—a little like a challenge, one that Bucky did not accept. Instead, he yielded to Steve, resting his right hand lightly on Steve’s shoulder, feeling the need to be close. Her legs came up to rest on Bucky’s lap and she just sat there with them, enjoying the night.

Just like old times.

“Are you guys staying with me for the whole summer?” she asked, her voice muffled into Steve’s unusually large peck.

“I dunno, doll, is that what you asked your dad for?” Steve asked knowingly.

She shrugged and buried her face deeper. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean he’ll keep his word.”

“We’re here until further notice,” Bucky said. “Steve might get called away occasionally.”

“Because of Tony?” she asked, her voice small.

“Yeah,” Steve said, pressing his lips to the crown of her head in a kiss, “But you don’t need to worry your pretty head about that.”

“Okay.”

“Now, doll,” Bucky started, placing his left hand on her calf. She glanced at him from Steve’s chest. “Are you gonna behave with us this summer?”

She blushed, but a smirk fell across her face. “Of course I will, Bucky,” she said in a tone that implied the exact opposite.

His hand slid up to her knee. “Not gonna go getting into any trouble with all the teenage hooligans on the island?”

She rolled her eyes. “Why would I want to get in trouble with them when I could get in trouble with you guys, instead?”

Steve’s arm tightened around her shoulders in a way that was just a little bit threatening. “Now, Y/N, listen to me,” he said, using his serious voice, “Your dad wanted us to keep you safe. You’re not gonna go around making trouble for us. Got it?”

“I guess,” she whined. Steve didn’t like that.

His hand came up and cupped her jaw, tilting her head up forcefully so she looked at him. “Don’t be a brat,” he said, a warning in his tone, “You’re gonna be a good girl for us or there’ll be consequences.”

“Steve,” she pouted, the whine still in her voice.

He grit his teeth, and his fingers squeezed her jaw just hard enough for her to get the message. “No complaining, baby girl. Now you say ‘Yes, Steve’, so I know you understand.”

“…Yes, Steve.”

He let her go, and she tried to pull away from him but his arm around her shoulders anchored her against him. Bucky’s hand moved from Steve’s shoulder to her head, stroking his fingers through her soft hair to sooth and reassure her.

They were all silent then, like they often were after Steve scolded her. It was a familiar dance for them. When she got bratty or if she did something wrong, Steve would reprimand her sternly, while Bucky sat by and watched. Then, both Bucky and Steve would calm her down so she knew they forgave her. It worked to correct her misbehavior every time, but it took all three of them.

With Steve rocking them gently on the porch swing and Bucky running his fingers through her hair, it didn’t take long to lull her back to sleep.

Steve carried her upstairs to put her to bed, and Bucky followed, turning down the covers and tucking her in. Hermes curled up on the bed at her feet, settling down and dozing off right next to her.

Steve had already placed their luggage in the rooms they would be staying in, all their rooms side by side in the same hall.

Bucky followed Steve to their respective bedrooms, and they lingered in the doorways.

“Do you think I was too hard on her?” Steve asked. They spoke quietly in the mellow darkness of the night. Bucky could hear the waves crashing on the beach out back.

“Nah,” Bucky reassured him, “She can take it. Plus, it’d be nice if she didn’t act up during this trip.” He could hope she wouldn’t, at least.

Steve nodded. “She gets so ballsy on these vacations when her dad’s not here.”

“Well,” Bucky said, clapping him on the shoulder, “If she gets like that this summer, you’re here to put her in her place.”

Steve looked at him, dark eyes glinting. “Damn right,” he said, voice low. Bucky couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but Steve’s tone of voice sent a shudder through him. “We should get to bed,” Steve said finally, breaking up the tense atmosphere. “I’m waking you both up early tomorrow.”

Bucky groaned, “Ugh, c’mon Stevie. Let us sleep in.”

Steve grinned, “No chance, Buck. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Bucky said, his voice soft as he watched Steve retreat into his bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

He let out a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face. It was going to be a long, intense summer, he could already tell.

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